


X-Men: Re-Evolution

by MabShadowcrowned (Overlord_Mordax), VickytheSnake



Category: X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men Evolution
Genre: F/M, M/M, Other, POV Queer Character, Queer Themes, Transgender themes, canon typical social justice themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:08:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 38,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29517858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Overlord_Mordax/pseuds/MabShadowcrowned, https://archiveofourown.org/users/VickytheSnake/pseuds/VickytheSnake
Summary: 2020s era ‘reboot’ of X-men: Evolution. It initiates its own continuity but keeps many of the themes, situations, and characters from the original show.Teenage mutants struggle with identity, social pressure, romance, politics and ultimately survival as they find themselves increasingly divided on ideological grounds. Can the students of the Xavier Institute and the newly formed Brotherhood of Mutants find common ground and work together for the future of their kind, or is it an endeavor doomed from the start?Centers around Todd Tolansky and twin mutant OCs on opposite sides. Todd/OC. Twins Morgan and Greg find themselves in conflict when they arrive for their first day at Giles Corey Memorial High School. Sent to NY from their home in Maine after rumors began to circulate about the pair's oddities.
Relationships: Toad (X-Men)/Original Character(s)
Kudos: 3





	1. s01e01: The Shadow Over New Salem

**Author's Note:**

> S01E01: The Shadow over New Salem: Twins Morgan and Greg find themselves in conflict when they arrive for their first day at Giles Corey Memorial High School. Sent to NY from their home in Maine after rumors began to circulate about the pair’s oddities, goth girl Morgan wants to be free to express herself, while her brother Greg is concerned with making the best possible first impression. Tensions escalate when rumors start to fly despite Greg’s best efforts, and when the twins make friends with opposing social groups at school. Greg encounters motormouth Bobby Drake and the surprisingly sporty Kitty Pryde, while Morgan’s path crosses with the school punks, Todd Tolansky, Lance Alvers, and their friends.

Morgan stepped out of the bathroom, still steaming from her shower, to find that someone had laid out clothes for her on her bed. The cute outfit was one she had worn a lot-- though not in the last six months. There was a cute pink top with a lace ruff, a white, hip-length sweater throw, black, knee length pleated skirt with pink lace up the side, and a pair of white pantyhose.

The offending party had at least restrained themselves from picking out her underwear, it seemed.

‘ _ This time, at least _ ,’ Morgan thought with a bitter frown on her face.

There was a moment of hesitation, a moment of  _ frustrated rebellion, _ that told her to just wear what she damn well pleased anyway and damn the inevitable screaming match that would come.

But there was another part of her that knew that'd be a bad idea. At least… a bad way to start the day.

Morgan, with her long dark hair parted around sharply pointed ears and her pale, pale, slightly purple tinged skin still damp from the long and relaxing shower, walked over to the dresser to grab some underthings, and pull a few more suitable clothes that she could change into later in the day.

As she walked her way back to the bed, she caught sight of herself in the mirror.

She was, and always had been, quite tall and angular. With a sharp featured face, high cheekbones, long lashes and a charming smile-- a smile which turned quite sharp indeed once her fangs grew in. Her shoulders, perhaps, were a little wide. Her hips narrower than she'd like-- and there were  _ plenty  _ of other parts of her anatomy that her mind tried to needle her about; especially in the irritated and self-conscious state that  _ someone's _ choice in clothes brought out.

With a soft 'tch' between her pointed teeth, she walked back to the bed and got dressed for the day in the outfit she  _ wished _ she could have left back in Red Oak, Maine.

As she was brooding, there came a soft, almost hesitant knock on the door-- surprisingly soft really, given the usual thunderous approach..

"Hey, sis, you almost ready? I made eggs." The voice was as hesitant as the knock.

That too, was surprising. Her brother usually left all the cooking to her. He was probably trying to appease her for the clothes thing.

Morgan didn't say a word as she tugged on the pantyhose, and wriggled into the old skirt. She thought she'd gotten rid of the thing back when they were packing. It was clear that ‘ _ someone _ ’ noticed she'd  _ 'forgotten'  _ it.

With a heavy sigh, she slipped into the throw sweater that had been laid out for her, and grabbed a large school bag from the corner. Opening it, she began throwing in the clothes she’d grabbed from her closet. The fishnet stockings and shirt A few spiked armbands and a choker, some chains on clips,.and some other pieces with a lot more black and red to it than the outfit she was wearing now.

Zipping up her bag, she sighed, and called, "Yeah, yeah. I'm done."

The door opened gently and a young man stood in the frame. He was Morgan's twin-- literally. He had the same sharp featured face and high cheekbones, same long lashes and soft smile. However, the shoulders that seemed wide on her seemed a bit narrow on him though he was quite muscular despite their shared slenderness. The only real contrast between them besides the muscle was that where her complexion had a cast of dusky violet his had an ever-so-slightly metallic sheen of silvery gold. He was wearing a gym t-shirt, jeans, and gold and black letterman-style jacket from their old school, as usual. The only thing that seemed to change on him day-to-day was the specifics of the shirt he wore. As usual, he had his hair pulled up in a ponytail, with just enough down in front to hide his ears.

He looked her over significantly, and once he was obviously satisfied with her outfit, he tried to pretend that he hadn't.

"Morning. You look good."

"You certainly made sure of that." She made no attempt to disguise the irritation in her voice as she shouldered past him into the upstairs hall. "You made eggs, Greg? Usually I do the cooking."

Greg grimaced as she brushed by him, turning to follow.

"Well, yeah, but, I figured you'd want, you know, longer to get ready today," he grumbled slightly. " Girls always take longer to get dressed..." he chuckled lamely and waved her to follow, closing her door behind them. "C'mon, it;ll get cold."

Morgan rolled her eyes as she passed him again, her bag dangling over her shoulder "I'm doing my hair after we eat. I'll just do my makeup at school"

‘ _ All the better to match my other outfit, anyway _ ,’ she thought, glancing at him over her shoulder.

"Are you sure? You don't want to have it set when you walk in?" he asked with a note of concern. He made his way leading her through down the hall of the new house. Though the bulk of the moving had been finished, there were boxes still stacked here and there in the hall. "I mean, first impressions and all that?"

"First impressions." Morgan murmured "of course."

She looked down at herself, and the outfit she'd had chosen for her with a frown. "It's all about the first impression, isn't it?"

Greg strode into the kitchen, where a couple of plates of fried eggs and toast were waiting, along with large glasses of orange juice and milk. One plate had double the food the other did.

"I mean, you  _ want _ to make a good first impression right?" Greg said. "After mom went to all the trouble of moving us out here and starting us at a new school? after-- last time."

Morgan glanced at the plates, before sitting down before the smaller plate with a grimace that showed the points of her fangs.

"That wasn't my fault.It..." She looked away. "They shouldn't have pushed me like that."

Greg grabbed a large jar from the counter before he sat down, and brought it to the table, scowling. "Morgan, I didn't say it was your fault. Let's-- lets just not assign blame and just roll with the fresh start, okay?

There was a pleading edge to Greg's usual rough tone, as he took two heaping spoonfuls out of the jar marked 'Pro-tein' and mixed them into his milk.

Morgan leaned on the table with a frown "You really think it's a fresh start, huh?"

Their mother had certainly tried to make it one. Morgan supposed that with their father long out of the picture, and her on constant business trips anyway, it didn’t really matter where they lived. Mom wouldn’t be there 90% of the time anyway. Moving the two of them hundreds of miles from Maine to New York was easy. For her, anyway.

She grabbed her glass of orange juice a little too roughly, and sipped it as some tried to spill off the edge. 

“All that's happened is we were shipped off as far away as Mom could manage because the whole town thinks we're freaks. This place isn't gonna be any different, Greg, no matter how many of my old outfits you set out on my bed." She snorted softly "...they don't even suit my complexion anymore, anyway."

"Your complexion is  _ fine _ ," he insisted, gritting his teeth. "And the whole point is the people here *don't* think we're freaks. We can *fix* this Morgan, if you don't deliberately try to dive bomb the whole thing.

Morgan stared at him, as he shoveled eggs into his mouth between sentences.

"I'm purple, Greg. White and pale pink make me look washed out." She leaned on her hand, poking at the yolk of an egg with a frown, "...and there's nothing to fix. And even if there was,I don't see why getting me to dress up like I used to is going to do anything. You  _ know _ that's not me… not anymore."

Greg looked away, and chugged his protein milk. "Morgan, come on, why are you trying to start a fight over this?"

"Because I don't get it, Greg," Morgan told him with a frown. "...I don't get why my first impression at a new school has to be someone I'm not."

She speared the yolk with her fork, frowning deeply "...the whole reason things went so south back home is  _ because _ nobody wanted to accept the real me."

"That was  _ different _ , Morgan," Greg insisted. "Here nobody knows.... nobody knows  _ how _ identical we are, you know? Don't you want a chance for people to just think we're both normal?"

"...we're not normal, Greg. You know that, we both know that."

"But if we play our cards right, nobody  _ else  _ has to know that," he insisted, his fingers tensing into a fist. " _ Please _ , Morgan, all I want is this  _ one day _ to make a good impression and  _ not _ have everybody around us immediately think we're freaks, okay?  _ Please _ ?"

The tension in his voice was obvious, and he looked at her with piercing, almost desperate gaze.

Morgan met his stare with a smoldering glare for a moment "...."

Her lips quirked into a snarl for a moment before she looked down at her eggs with a sharp sigh; "....One day to make sure I don't  _ ruin _ your big high school debut, huh? Fine. Whatever."

"Morgan, it's not like tha--" he started to snap and then stopped himself, sagging in the chair, and looking at the floor. "Look... whatever. Do what you want. I'm gonna finish getting ready and head out. Be ready in 15 minutes."

He quickly finished his eggs, leaving the toast, and stood up.

"You got it, Greg." Morgan murmured, finishing her own plate without much enthusiasm. "Let's get ready for a  _ great _ first day at Giles Corey Memorial High."

000

The ride to school was awkward and quiet in Greg's car-- a nice yellow two-door with black racing stripes that their Mom had gotten him for his 16th birthday. Usually he enjoyed driving, but today Greg had a harder time. He couldn't help glancing over at Morgan as they drove up to the school, wishing he could think of something to say.

‘ _ Every time I open my mouth I dig the hole I’ve gotten myself in with her a little fucking deeper _ .’ He shook his head. It just wasn't worth it.

At least the car turned a few heads when he pulled into the parking lot.

He took a deep breath as he shouldered his bag, and partially opened the door.

"Mom says it's all set with admin. We've got homeroom first period but I think we're in different rooms."

Morgan glanced at him, her hair now brushed down around her ears, draped over her shoulders. She still hadn't put on her makeup. Greg hoped it wouldn’t hurt her chances with the girls here. 

"Okay." She shouldered her own bag as she pushed the door open and slipped out. "Guess I'll see you at home then. Good luck with your first impression, bro."

With a wan attempt at a smile, she stepped out of the car and sauntered her way towards the front door.

Greg watched her go for a long moment, and then closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.  


"Please, just let this be one good day."


	2. Physical Education

Surprisingly, the twins ran into each other a lot sooner than the end of the day, sooner than either of them expected or hoped. It happened as students assembled in the gym for phys ed class. As Greg filed in with a gaggle of other chatty guys, it was becoming increasingly obvious to Morgan, who had gotten there a minute earlier, that this was supposed to be a  _ boys  _ gym period.

Morgan tensed, her bag slung over her shoulder as she stood awkwardly by the bleachers. She'd yet to change into her  _ actual _ outfit for today, having planned to do so after phys ed, and she knew that she looked increasingly and distressingly out of place among the crowd of young men.

Her fingers tightened on her bag's strap, as she nervously took a step forward and tried to corner the gym teacher, stammering, "S-so hey... uh, is this a co-ed gym class or what?"

The gym teacher, a heavyset man with greying hair and a red cap, frowned and looked at his clipboard. "It isn't supposed to be. What's your name?"

"M-Morgan Connelly." She said , her eyes flicking around to the crowd.

She watched as Greg walked over to them, having suddenly noticed his sister’s presence, his body language stiff, and aggressive.

"Hey. What's going on here?" he demanded..

As Greg stalked over, too many eyes for her comfort turned their way. Her jaw tensed, and she gripped her bag. "...Maybe I'd better go."

"Not so fast," the coach said, holding up a hand. "Your name's on my list."

"It's a mistake!" Greg hissed.

In the crowd, one of the boys whispered to his friend, before the two of them broke out in a quiet snicker.

Around them, more whispers began to ripple through the knot of boys as Morgan visibly shrunk back. 

"Greg!" she hissed through her teeth "Don't yell at the man!" She glanced at the coach with a half smile, hiding her teeth. "It...I... ah, should probably talk to the principal. it's pretty obvious that I don't ...belong...here.."

"Not so sure about that, now that I got a good look,." a blond boy 'fake-whispered' to his friend. A giggle went up from a few of the others.

In the crowd, a ratty looking and slouchy boy gave the blond a sidelong grimace, his gaze flicking between the gossiper (who was being joined by other whispers now), and the scene. He rolled his eyes.

Greg's fists clenched, and Morgan watched with increasing dismay as dark mist started to rise from around them. "Get out of here, Morgan. Go talk to the principal. I'll *handle* this."

Morgan's eyes widened. "Oh fuck." she whispered under her. Not this again. "Greg...I...I..." 

She backed up, first towards the group, then averting and moving towards the door. "Don't get carried away."

While Greg’s increasingly heated confrontation took center stage, Morgan used the diversion to flee the scene.

000

Greg could feel the anger and frustration prickling just beneath his skin as he puffed his chest at the out-of-shape peon of a gym coach.

“Well?” he demanded, too irritated to think about how his scowl might show his fangs.

The coach grimaced, flipping through the pages. "I see a 'Morgan Connelly' assigned to Locker 38b, and on the class roster, son. No need to get heated, I'm just going by what it says."

"Well your roster is obviously wrong,  _ sir _ ," Greg snapped. "As you see, my  _ sister _ must have been put in class with me by mistake." The mist around his hands was starting to get more and more visible.

"Aren't they twins?" "They look identical to me." "I thought twins could only be.... you know."

From the back of the group a young man with wavy brown hair looked increasingly concerned. He jogged forward with a deliberate half smile on his face and grabbed Greg's shoulder, giving him a sly little wink before glancing at the teacher.

"hey uh, Coach? Sorry to step in , but I got a bit of news. Student Council President wanted to give ya a message from the principal. Says it's somethin' about a mixup in the class roster."

Greg prickled as he was touched, but his shoulders relaxed a moment later, and the mist vanished. "See? A  _ mistake _ ."

This didn't entirely stop the whispering, but it did diminish it somewhat.

The boy grinned wider and nodded his head affirmatively. "Yeah, sorry I didn't come by earlier Coach but I got held up back in Chemistry" He snapped his fingers, pointing a pair of finger guns at the teacher. "We cool?"

"Yes. I suppose so." The Coach looked at the list with a shake of his head. “You boys go change and do a few laps around the gym while I see your president to make sure about this. And if I see anybody slacking off, it's dodgeball all week."

There was a quick murmur of worried agreement and annoyance through the crowd, who dispersed toward the locker room to start to change.

Greg looked up to find Morgan, and seeing that she had slipped away he glanced at the boy who had intervened instead.

He was a fairly slight young man, with wavy brown hair cut in a short and sporty style and a cocky little grin on his face. He had a kind of boyish handsomeness to his features, and warm brown eyes currently crinkled with the grin plastered on his face.

"Hey man." He put his hands on his hips "Feeling a little more chill, or do I gotta lay down some more of the ol' Bobby Drake charm?"

Greg grimaced, and looked away, seeing that the coach had gone. 

"I'm.... chill enough," he grumbled. "I can't believe this bullshit."

Bobby pulled out his cell phone, sending a quick text with a nod of his head. 

"Yeah, people can really suck--especially when they bump up against something they don't understand. But don't worry. I've got the Student Council Prez workin' on a solution for you now. "

"The * **solution** * is to put her in the girls class where she * **belongs** *," he growled. Then his voice softened. "But.... thanks for your help, I guess..."

Greg moved toward the changing room and Bobby trotted along to follow him 

He held his hands up "Hey, hey, that's exactly what I meant, man. Ororo's gonna make sure the paperwork and everything goes nice and smooth. Dunno why the mix up happened, but she'll sure fix it come hell or highwater."

He looked like he was biting back another comment. Maybe a quip. He kept talking. Greg was starting to get the impression that it might be difficult to stop him. "Anyway. Glad I could help. I'm no stranger to the kinda bullshit those guys were up to so I thought maybe I could , you know...do my part to mellow things out."

Greg looked back over his shoulder. "Huh, you sound like a real social bomb defusal unit," he grunted.

"What can I say? I got a way of helpin' people keep a cool head." He mimed those finger guns at Greg. "I'm a real people person."

"Yeah? and how's that work out for you, Bobby?"

They strode into the boys locker room, where Greg gave the stink eye to anyone who looked like they were even thinking of talking about his sister. He hated the way the room quieted a little as he came in. He found his assigned locker, threw down his bag heavily and started to get out his things.

"Eh, I got my good days, got my bad days. Haven't gotten my nose punched in for like, what? a few weeks now? And counting." Bobby slid in next to him, and began opening a locker. "Looks like we're locker buddies, huh?"

Greg glanced at him, and then away, starting to get changed. "Guess so."

Bobby began to strip as well, shrugging off his leather jacket and wriggling out of his t-shirt . For such a small man, he was rather toned with muscle. A runner maybe? He had little to no body hair, and a quite pale, almost icy complexion. As he tossed the shirt to the side, a scar or two were visible here and there on his torso. Greg couldn't help but notice all of it.

‘ _ Must be more to this guy than meets the eye _ ’, he thought to himself.

"Anyway, yeah. It works out alright, except when it doesn't. Then it backfires real bad. Just ask my ex." He beamed at Greg. "So you're new in town, aintcha?"

"Yeah we just moved here," he nodded. He paused for a moment. "It's Greg, by the way. Greg Connolly."

"Nice to meetcha, Greggy." Bobby offered his hand with a grin Greg noticed as he did so that the other boy’s eyes flicked over his own toned, and slightly shimmering body quickly in return. "Welcome to New Salem. Believe it or not, it's a real friendly place. You'll fit in just fine."

"Yeah... I hope so," he sighed. He shook Bobby's hand, awkwardly, as he noticed Bobby notice him. Then he moved to put on his shirt.

Bobby turned a little pink, but masked it by pulling on his gym shirt which for some reason had a little cartoon of the Snow Miser from the old christmas special on it.

"Hey, trust me. You’ll be fine." Bobby winked, as he shimmied into his gym shorts. "Hell, you can even consider me your first friend if ya want."

"Sure, why not," Greg sighed. His own shirt was just a plain black tank top, one of many he owned for the purpose.

"Hell yeah." Bobby offered him a fist bump, which Greg returned slightly exasperated. "Hey, we should hang out later. Like, maybe you should talk to Ororo later about your sis...and we can work something out huh? Maybe get a soda? Chill?"

"Sure, sounds cool," he nodded. He wasn’t about to turn down any friends on the first day. Bobby seemed normal enough anyway, even if he was a motor mouth. Greg tied his sneakers, and stood up to stretch. "Who's Ororo?"

"Student Council Prez." Bobby explained as he tied his sneakers on, and tossed his clothes into the locker. "She's a good friend of mine. We live in the same, like, boarding house."

‘ _ Boarding house?’  _ Greg wondered to himself. But instead of asking he said, "My last school didn't really do student government."

"No? Huh, sounds kind of shitty. Student Council's done a lot to help us out, you know? And with Ororo at the helm, we're in good hands. She's got a real way about her, ya know?" He winked "as long as you ain't on her bad side at least."

"I'll try not to get on it then." He nodded. "Think you could help me out with that Mr. Charming?"

Bobby ran his hand through his wavy hair, and flashed his bright smile. "Yeah. I think I might just be able to manage that for ya, Greg. Don't worry. I'll put in a good word."

"Thanks, Bobby. You seem like a pretty chill guy."

"Trust me dude, I'm the chillest guy you'll ever meet." he promised, winking at Greg with a sly air. "So hey. Where'd you and your sis come from? "

Greg shrugged, jogging with Bobby back into the gym. "Up in Maine."

Bobby kept good pace with him as they headed out with the other boys. "Maine, huh? I know a dude from Canada. They're like, pretty much the same, right?"

Greg smirked a little, as his mood finally started to lighten. "Oh yeah, definitely. One difference though."

"What's that, Greggy?" Bobby raised his eyebrow

"People from Maine are less polite," he chuckled, kind of wishing the kid would stop calling him ‘Greggy’. ‘ _ But fuck it, at least I made a friend. Bobby seems pretty nice. _ ’

Bobby laughed. “The guy I know ain't that polite neither. Maybe he's actually from Maine, who knows. I'm gonna ask him next time he puts me through the wringer."

Greg raised an eyebrow at the phrasing, but didn’t ask. "You find out, you tell me, yeah? Maybe he's my long lost brother."

"I'll let you know." Bobby smirked; "But uh, if you *are* his brother then we're all in trouble."

"Should I be worried?"

"Dunno, how much do you think you'd take after him? 'Cause he's built like a bear and hairy as one to boot, and does  _ not _ appreciate my attempts at humor. Like a feral fuckin' wolverine with a teaching licence."

Greg's eyebrows went higher and higher as Bobby spoke wondering just who this guy was to Bobby, until he got to the bit about the teaching license, where he let out a breath and smirked.

"Ahhh, does he teach here, or is he like, your personal trainer? I noticed you're a little built."

"You know what?" Bobby punched his shoulder as they jogged "why don't you ask Ororo about that one when you see her? She'll fill ya in."

"Well now I'm curious."


	3. Win Friends and Influence People

Morgan had used the opportunity of the gym fiasco to change her clothes, and she stepped out of the girl's bathroom in a very different outfit than she'd stepped in.

She adjusted the fishnets on her hand with a sigh of relief. She was feeling  _ much _ more comfortable now that she was in something her own style. She wore a plaid skirt that dared the administration to say it was too short, along with the combat boots she'd hidden in her bag as best she could. Over the skirt, the silver chains she’d brought were clipped in place of a belt and around her neck she’d hung her inverted cross necklace along with a few more silver loops of chain. The necklaces were draped over a crimson shirt bearing a logo of a bloodied straight razor and the name of the band ‘ _ Jacknife's Bitches _ '. She wore a fishnet shirt under it, covering her arms, up to her hands, where her thumb hooked into the build in armsocks, and down her otherwise exposed stomach. She'd thrown on a couple of spiked bracelets, and a ring choker around her slender throat as well.

She'd finally done her makeup, too, dark, dramatic lipstick to highlight her lips, and sharp eyeliner and crimson shadow.

She sighed with relief as she made her way towards her locker to dump the offending morning's outfit where she wouldn't have to deal with it until much later in the day.

There was a wolf whistle from behind her, and she froze as she felt someone put a hand on her rear.

"Damn, dollface, you dirty-up pretty nice." The voice, which had the sharp, flat edge of one of NY's lower districts, belonged to the lanky and disheveled figure she'd noticed earlier in gym class. That was especially odd, given that the period was several minutes from being over.

Morgan yelped in surprise at the sudden touch and a darkening, rather than a reddening, spread across her cheeks and nose as she flushed and shot the boy a haughty look.

The kid had large, pale greenish-yellow eyes half-hidden under the slightly greasy looking dishwater blond bangs of a choppy chin length haircut and a toothy grin that would have been too wide on a face any less cherubic. He was tall, but slouched, and wearing a plain t-shirt over a long sleeve one that didn't quite come to his wrists, which bore matching spiked wristbands, along with a spiked collar around his neck. His stone washed jeans were blown out at the knees, and he was wearing a pair of old looking converse shoes. His complexion, like hers, was just a little *off*, his in the direction of sallow or greenish, with blotchy freckles over his nose.

He walked past her like it was nothing, adn gave her a lazy, two fingered salute, along with the ‘compliment’.

"Well, someone's at least got taste." she drawled, glancing at him as he sauntered on past "Even if he's lacking a sense of--personal space."

He looked back over his shoulder at her and leaned on a nearby locker. "I donno, doll, I have the *sense* that space between us could get pretty personal, if you know what I mean," he said, grinning even wider.

Morgan felt a flutter of embarrassment at the suggestion, but it was a little flattering. It amused her more than anything, and she opened her mouth to answer his suggestive quip.

"Hey!" A familiar hollar cut through the conversation, halting any reply Morgan might have given.

It was Greg's voice.

Morgan stiffened, and for a moment the shadows near her seemed to flicker and dance as she glanced over her shoulder with an expression of dread 

."Damn it," she whispered under her breath.

Greg and some brown haired kid were coming shoulder to shoulder around the corner, along with a couple more of the people she'd noticed in gym class.

The scruffy kid also stiffened at the sound of Greg’s voice. "Uh-oh. Looks like big bro's got a glass case policy on the princess."

The boy with Greg grinned broadly. "Hey! Toad, what's hoppin'? Skipping out on doing laps to flirt with the new girl huh? wild."

Morgan's face darkened with a flush as she leaned over and mimed, as subtle as she could, to the scruffy kid-- Toad?-- that probably *wasn't* his nam to get running.

For a moment Toad looked torn; but Greg was laser focused on him, not even noticing Morgan's outfit yet, and he made a move to get out of there.

"Yeah, I'll just let ya have some time to chill with the new boyfriend, ice man." He clicked his tongue and made a double shooting gesture at the three of them, before scrambling down the hall in a way that really did have an almost hopping quality to it. "Later!"

Bobby turned a bright pink, and his eyes flicked to the side, perhaps hoping nobody else heard that comment. If Greg had, he didn’t say anything about it. 

"Hey! get back here!" he shouted after Toad.

"Haha, wow, what a card huh?” Bobby laughed nervously. “Toad's a real funny guy."

Morgan slowly started inching along the wall....before she too made a break for it, hoping against hope that her brother hadn’t noticed her attire.

"A real comedian," Greg growled. "Morgan! are you alr--"

He stopped mid sentence as her hope dissolved. He’d definitely seen it.

Morgan stumbled, tripping on one of the laces of her shoes. "Just dandy, bro!" She gave him a hasty salute as she caught her footing. "Anyway, late for class! Bye~"

Greg looked for a moment as if he was going to come after her, his face contorted with anger, and black mist starting to simmer off the top of his head. Thankfully, he didn’t move to follow her, instead shouting, "I'll talk to you * _ later _ !*"

Morgan flashed him a smile that for the briefest of moments, showed her fangs, before she vanished into the hallway.

000

Bobby pat Greg on the shoulder again as they watched his sister retreat down the hall and vanish. "Hey man, don't worry about it. Todd was probably just saying hi."

"You heard what he said," Greg snapped, cooling off enough for the mist to dissipate. He cracked his knuckles, trying not to think about what else the creep might have said to his sister. "Who was that kid?"

"He was uh, flirting with her a bit, right?" Bobby rubbed his neck awkwardly. "He's Todd Tolansky. Toad. We ain't in the same social circles but he's an alright guy when he ain't causin' trouble. Don't think he likes me much, though."

"Toad huh? He sure looks like one," Greg snorted, opening his locker with a yank. "What kind of social circle is *he* in?"

"You should see his long jump game. I tried to get the guy to join track before but uh, he's not interested." Bobby stuck his hands in his pockets, and continued. "He hangs around with m...m.." he glanced off to the side, "one of my old friends, who uh, isn't really on speaking terms with me at the moment...and some other kids in school. "

"Great." Greg set his jaw and shouldered his bag angrily, almost tearing it at the seam. "Whatever. I'll deal with... that... later. Come on, I don't wanna be late."

Bobby shrugged his shoulders with an easy smile, and nodded "Yeah. Let's head out huh? Bell's about to ring."

000

Kitty Pryde slammed her locker shut, only to find someone standing behind it waiting for her while she got her books for theater class.

He was tall and slim, though a bit wide in the chest and shoulders, and had an easy smile on his sharp, long nosed face. He had brown eyes, and clear, milky skin, and a trace of red fuzz over his upper lip. He was dressed a little more dramatically than most, in tight black jeans and high black boots, with a blue and gold hip length jacket, beneath which his ruffled shirt looked like it belonged either to a pirate, or to the ladies section at target.

"Hey, looks like we have class together, hmmm?" the redhead smiled roguishly.

Kitty sighed as she closed her locker, hugging her theater book to her chest as she glanced sidelong at Dorian. It had been practically the whole summer since she’d seen him.

Tossing her loosely curling brown hair over her shoulder, she nodded "Like, I guess we do huh? Kinda a trip down memory lane, huh? We used to have all kinds of classes together--.back at the Institute."

Kitty flashed him a very pointed look.

Dorian looked a little pained, and put his hand to his chest. "Kitty, darling, you cut me to the quick. I've been trying to give Bobby that *space* he wanted; you understand?"

"it's a big mansion, Dorian." she huffed. "People are asking about you, you know!"

"And I have a *big* wound on my heart, Kitty!" he draped himself over the locker melodramatically. "I  _ could _ come back though.... if....."

"Gawd." Kitty rolled her eyes. "You know, Dorian. You're  _ soooo _ lucky that Theater class is next. You big ham."

"Maybe they'll actually  _ appreciate _ me in that class, hmm?"

"Plenty of people appreciate you, oh Pirate of Penzance." Kitty pointed her finger at him. "You just really hurt Bobby with that whole mess!"

"I know, I know..." he agreed, slumping down on the locker. "We  _ both _ hurt each other terribly, and I want to make it up to him! but damn it, Kitty, he won't  _ talk _ to me."

"I mean, you  _ did _ out the poor guy in front of the entire class." Kitty said with a pouting frown. At least it had ‘only’ been about their relationship, and not about Bobby being a mutant, but that was small consolation. "He's had kind of a rough time since then...can you blame him? He needs time."

"How  _ much _ time, Kitty?" he half wailed. "I'm dying in anguish. I'm a  _ lost soul! _ Can't *you* get him to talk to me? you could talk sense into anyone!"

"You know. I'm, like, starting to remember why they call you Banshee, Dorian." Kitty huffed, watching his theatrics with a huff of breath. “You sure do a lot of moaning.”

He clasped his hand over his heart. "I'm wounded. Can't you help a man with his heart on his sleeve?"

"That's a pretty terrible place to keep your heart, oh bard." Kitty said with a hand on her hip. "You should put it back in your chest where it belongs."

"I can't, Kitty! Bobby has *ripped it out*!"

Kitty pressed her hand to her face with a quiet sigh. "Dorian. Gawd, it's one breakup. Do you know how many break ups  _ I've _ had?? like, 5 or something!"

"Please, Kitty I'm  _ begging _ you," he insisted, leaning in quite close to her, demolishing anything like personal space. "Tell Bobby just to  _ talk _ to me."

Kitty pressed up against the lockers, her lips twisting into a pouting frown. "hey, hey, Dorian! Back off, okay? Like, I'm not gonna make Bobby do anything he doesn't wanna do! You broke his heart too, you know! He'll talk to you when he's ready!"

Dorian grabbed Kitty's shirt dramatically, sagging toward his knees. "Kitty, I--"

"Hey, creep, the lady said to back the fuck off," a voice Kitty didn’t recognize snapped.

Marching up to them as he came around the corner was a tall and somewhat effeminate young man, with a slim, muscular frame, dressed in workout gear and a letterman jacket from some other school.

000

Greg had been on his way to shop class when he came upon yet another scene in the hallway. Some brown haired girl was being menaced at her locker by a guy, and damned if he was going to let that happen on his watch, especially after that shit with his sister. 

Hackles raised, he stalked up to them.

Somehow, the girl slipped out of the red head’s grip despite his hold on her shirt, and she slid to the side with a sigh. "Look, Dorian.."

The red head, Dorian, looked over at Greg with a snide expression. "Do yourself a favor, friend and don't involve yourself in another man's heartbreak." He sighed and held up his hands. "Kitty-- I'll see you in class."

Dorian straightened his shirt, and stalked off down the hall.

"Wow what a drama queen," Greg muttered, watching him go for a moment, before he turned his attention back on the girl. "Are you, uh, alright? Kitty, was it?"

Kitty, who had also been Dorian go, a slight frown on her face, looked up at Greg. "I'm fine...I could have handled it but.." Her frown dissolved into a little smile. "thank you for breaking it up before it got ugly. Dorian's always been...well. LIke...you know....Hyperbolic." 

She tucked a curly lock of hair over her ear and nodded, realizing he’d asked her name. "That's right! Kitty Pryde! And you're a new face, I don't think I've seen *you* before."

Greg smiled and gave her a thumbs up. "It's my first day. Greg Connelly. My sister and I just moved to town."

"Ooooh! It's always real groovy when someone new rolls into town!" Kitty beamed. "You  _ and _ a sister huh?"

"Yeah, Morgan, my twin." He nodded, fussing a bit with the hair over his ears, and hoping that Kitty didn’t notice anything amiss with them.

"Oh * _ wow _ *" Kitty clapped her hands together. "I hope I get to meet her too!" She looked Greg over somewhat appraisingly, a slight smile on her face "you know, you look pretty strong."

"I bet you two will get along," he said hopefully, and preened a little bit, figuring that she was checking him out. "And, yeah, I work out."

"I can tell! Have you ever thought about, like, taking up martial arts?"

"Morgan and I actually took a couple of years of karate when we were kids, but I haven't really touched it since then," he admitted, a little surprised by the turn in the conversation. "Why do you ask?"

"Wellll." Kitty twirled a lock of hair around her finger with a ditzy little smile on her face, "believe it or not, I'm pretty good, you know? And I'm part of the school's mixed martial arts club on top of some outside training with my trainers… and if you wanted to join I'd  _ love _ to see you there. Maybe we could go toe to toe sometime."

Greg actually cracked a smile--and his knuckles. Finally, something up his alley. "This school actually has a martial arts club? Yeah, I'd love to come. Just say the where and when and you;ve got me there."

"Yeah we do! You'll love it! Just come on by after school today, out behind the football fields. We're using the outdoor ring today." Kitty grinned, giving him a wink. "Just don't hold back. We've got some tough customers in the club."

"I'll make sure to remember that," he nodded, a smile warming away his earlier scowl.. "I better get to class-- but I'll see you in the ring."

Kitty gave him a little salute, "See you in the ring, big guy."

She winked, before scampering off with her theater book to class.


	4. Melodrama

Theater class was a ring of fiberglass chairs set up under a spotlight on the stage of the auditorium, behind the heavy red curtain. Morgan was there, as well as Kitty, Dorian, a girl with an eyepatch, a nervous looking boy with short, curly black hair and a soft face, and a few other students.

The teacher for the class was a whip-thin man with brushed back black hair, greying at the temples, and coal black eyes. He was wearing a red vest, and he had an old, upside down silk hat in his hands.

Kitty sat with her hands on her lap, grinning broadly as she kept her eyes on the teacher, while Morgan sat with bemused yet restrained excitement.

She leaned on her hand, grinning at the distinctive teacher in anticipation of the coming lesson...after all, theater was always a favorite class of hers.

The athletic girl in the eyepatch however didn't look very excited to be there. She leaned on her hand , her grey eye half closed and a small frown on her freckled face. She hadn't even taken off the heavy leather jacket, even under the sweltering stagelight.

Dorian looked a little listless in his seat, leaning on his knees, and tapping his booted feet, but he looked up curiously when their teacher started to introduce himself.

"Good Afternoon, class, I'm Mr. Zazlowski, and I'll be your portal into the world of theatre for this year," the man purred.

The girl in the eyepatch glanced up and gave the teacher a half wave. "Hey."

Kitty nodded, a wide smile on her face, "Oh I just can't wait, Mr. Zazlowski!"

Morgan smiled as well, though taking care to hide her fangs as she leaned upon her hand. "This ought to be a blast."

"I'm pleased that you're all so enthusiastic!" he declared. "I hope you'll be excited for what I have planned for the year-- a plan I'll reveal to you after our first warm up exercise."

He handed the hat to Morgan. "If you'd be so good as to pick a number out of my hat, and then pass it to the person on your right."

Morgan raised her eyebrow, but reached into the hat and pulled out a number before passing it along. The hat traveled around the circle with each of the students taking a number, as Morgan unfolded a little slip of paper with the number '3' written on it.

Once it had gone around the full circle Mr. Zazlowski took the now- empty hat back from Dorian who offered it to him with a flourish, and he put it on top of his head. 

"Excellent! Now please pair up with the person who has the same number you do. I'll be handing out a short scene for each of you to rehearse with your partner for the next 15 minutes, and then you'll be performing them in front of the class."

Morgan held up her slip of paper. "Well I'm # 3, so whichever poor bas-- ah, poor soul's got the same number had better step forward now." she purred "or forever hold your peace."

Kitty excitedly glanced at her own number; "oooh, I hope I get to team up with Kurt again!"

Mukuro simply turned her number around with an apathetic shrug of her shoulders.

The curly haired boy looked at his paper, and gave Kitty an apologetic smile, before standing. "Sorry, Kitty, it looks like I'm going to have to disappoint you this time." He showed the 3 on his paper, and shuffled over toward Morgan while the others figured out their configurations.

Kitty sighed, pouting a little bit as she leaned back into her chair. "Awww...well.."

She watched as the eyepatched girl walked towards the girl with glasses, planting her foot on the chair next to her and leaning in with a thin smile "Looks like it's you and me, specs."

That left Kitty glancing at the last available possibility. "...Oh..."

Dorian turned his number around and showed it off like a letter-card on Wheel of Fortune and he was Vanna White.

Kitty pursed her lips, and stomped over to slip into the chair next to him.

Morgan, meanwhile, glanced over at the boy next to her in curiosity. "Kurt, huh?"

The curly haired kid nodded, and gave her an awkward wave and a smile. "Kurt. Kurt Wagner. Nice to meet you."

Kurt had a strong, but not incomprehensibly thick, German accent, and pronounced his last name with a *vah* sound at the beginning.

Morgan flashed him a thin smile, before purring, "Nice to meet you, Kurt. I'm Morgan Connelly. I just moved into town this weekend."

"It's a pleasure," he said, bobbing his head politely. "Ah, looks like we'll be partners. Hope you don't mind..."

"Not at all." Morgan leaned on her hand. "As long as you give it your all, I think we'll do just fine together."

"Give it my all, huh?" He rubbed the back of his head. Morgan was getting the idea that he seemed like a pretty shy and soft spoken kid, which wasn’t ideal. "I'm afraid I'm not sure I have much of a stage presence, but I'll do my best."

"No?" Morgan purred, flicking the inverted cross on her necklace between her fingers idly. "Maybe I can help with that."

Kurt's glance flicked down to her jewelry and his smile grew even more apologetic, even a little uncomfortable. "Ah.... maybe... we can give it a try anyway."

Mr. Zazlowski came to them as he was handing out scripts, and offered them each a paper. "Getting to know your new brother and sister in the stage?"

"Sure are, Mr. Zaz." Morgan nodded, taking care not to let her hair fall out of place as she took the paper from him. "I'm hoping to help Kurt here get some confidence on the stage."

The teacher elbowed Morgan's arm in a friendly and gregarious way. "That's the spirit, Ms. Connelly. With enough confidence you can take on the world."

"I'm not sure I'm ready for the *world*," Kurt admitted timidly.

"And why not, when it's there for the taking?" She put her hand to her chest. "after all, in the words of the bard....  _ all the world's a stage _ ."

Zazlowski clapped and pointed. "That's the attitude I want to see! Now, you two, get rehearsing! Your public awaits!"

000

The first pair up to present their scene was the eyepatch girl and the glasses girl, whose names Morgan learned were Mukuro, and Darcy respectively. They, like the rest of the class it seemed, had been given the classic Romeo and Juliet balcony scene to work with.

Mukuro stood upon the stage, having finally discarded the leather jacket. Her arms, strong with firm muscle and lightly tanned skin, were bathed in the stage lights as she held one hand up and said in an apathetic monotone.

"Romeo. Romeo. Where are you at, Romeo."

Darcy, with her arms crossed, looked just as bored to be there when she answered.

The scene wasn't exactly a hit.

"Well, the two of you definitely need to work on your energy, ladies," Zazlowski said as they finished their read. "But we've got all year for that. Kurt, Morgan. You're up next."

Mukuro shrugged, before snatching her jacket off the stage and slinging it over her shoulder as she slunk back to her seat.

Morgan hopped up, and grabbed Kurt's hand. Practically dragging him onto the stage, she stood before the crowd.

A moment passed with her pale skin bathed in the light of the stage, before she turned to Kurt with an expression of aching longing. Her fingers curled over her chest as she began to recite in a passionate voice.

"'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part Belonging to a man. O, be some other name! What's in a name? that which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet; So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd, Retain that dear perfection which he owes Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name, And for that name which is no part of thee Take all myself."

Kurt seemed a little intimidated by the intensity of her passion, but he tried to put some of it into his wobbling answer. "I take thee at thy word; call me but love...."

He stumbled and hesitated.

In the audience, Darcy snorted and grinned at Mukuro. "Call me butt-love, eh, eh?"

Mukuro, stern faced for most of the class, actually cracked a smile and smothered a snicker with her hand.

Kitty grimaced and pressed her hand to her face with a quiet, "oh Kurt...."

Morgan stared at her scene partner, waving her hand "but love....come on Kurt, Don't choke on stage..."

Kurt tried to restart the line several times, but his shoulders sunk. "Oh man, I think i need the theatrical version of the Heimlich maneuver..."

Morgan sighed, her hand dropping before she turned to the crowd. 

"Alas , Romeo, sweet Romeo had had too much to drink at the grand gala. With his words muddled by drink, and his words of love dead in his throat.He did not win the heart of the Lady Capulet that night. No bodies lay in the streets of fair Verona, as the tragedy need not come to pass."

Mr. Zazlowski chuckled. "Improv will be later in the year, but good start."

The two of them quickly left the presentation area, and when they took their seats, Kurt smiled at Morgan nervously. "Sorry, I really blew it for you, I know."

Morgan winked at him, flipping the cross between her fingers again. "Don't worry about it. I've got all year to turn you into a thespian."

He chuckled nervously and looked at the ground. "Right, well, I guess I'm clay in your hands...."

"Mm hmm." Morgan said with an amused smile. "you're in good hands, too. I've been doing theater for a few years now, on top of cheer squad."

Morgan looked up with a grin to watch Dorian and Kitty hop onto the stage..

Kitty glanced at Dorian nervously before they began their scene. "Okay, are you ready, Dorian? Just like we practiced."

He waved dismissively, and they ran through it. Aside from Dorian's  _ Star Trek  _ tier overacting, their scene went off without a hitch. The only one to have done so, so far. 

"Bravo, I see we have some chemistry here," Zazlowski declared, congratulating the pair.. "And now; if you're ready, I can tell you about our big project."

Kitty flipped her ponytail over her shoulder, grinning as she hopped back into her seat "I'm ready!"

Morgan crossed her legs with a nod "me too, Mr. Zaz."

Mukuro just shrugged. "Whatever."

He tented his fingers and grinned broadly. "We'll be presenting a full play to the entire school.  _ The Crucible. _ "

000

As Morgan ducked out of theatre class, she heard a pair of booted footsteps hurrying to catch up behind her before she disappeared down the hall.

"Hey."

Waving to her as she turned to look was the red haired kid, Dorian, from theater class. 

Morgan slowed, a smirk crossing her face as she let him catch up to her. 

"Hey there, Captain Kidd."

Dorian gave a flourishing little bow as he caught up, and smiled broadly at her. "I wanted to compliment you on your performance in class-- and in the face of such adversity, too."

Morgan flipped her hair over her shoulder, grinning widely...for a moment forgetting to hide her fangs. "Why  _ thank you _ \-- Dorian, was it?

"Dorian indeed, and Morgan, I believe? You have a charming smile," he winked, grinning at her a bit slyly..

Morgan's smile took a downtick as it returned to hiding her teeth, but she nodded her head at the compliment. 

"That's me. Morgan Connelly. It was hard going with Kurt, but I'll make an actor of him yet. You were pretty good yourself. Kinda wish I lucked out with you as my partner instead, we'd make one hell of a team."

He sighed dramatically at the suggestion. "It  _ is _ a bit of a shame we didn't get partnered, especially with Kitty and I on the outs. Maybe Mr. Zazlowski will shake things up next time, hmm?"

She shrugged her bag onto her shoulder as it started to slip. "We can hope so. Kurt seems like a nice kid, just, you know. Not a lotta stage presence at the moment. Like he's not comfortable in his own skin up there. "She glanced at him "You and little miss prep know one another, huh?"

"Aye, and your adorable yet retiring scene partner as well," he agreed. "We all used to live together-- technically I suppose we still do."

"Huh. Really?" Morgan cocked her head with surprise at the idea. She walked alongside him, the chains from her skirt jingling with each step. "Must be pretty awkward to be on the outs with her then."

"Quite, unfortunately." He sighed again, straightening his jacket as they walked together. "I've been steering well clear of that lot for the sake of my own mental health."

"Good for you . That's what I tried to do when things got sour for me back home, too. Hopefully you have somewhere to stay, you know, since it sounds like you aren't really...staying there anymore?"

"Haven't had to sleep outside yet," he promised, smiling wanly. "If I were to come close, I suppose I'd have to weigh going back versus the all-night lecture."

Morgan grimaced at the thought. "Fuck, I'm no stranger to the 'all night lecture'. Depending on who it's from, I'd say maybe a night of camping might be the better option."

"A girl after my own heart.” He pressed his hand to his chest.

Morgan mimed the gesture, her fingers delicately placed above her breast. "Kindred spirits, once towns away, now trapped within the same walls of public education. Alas!” She broke off the overly dramatic speech and continued. "Well. You seem like a cool guy. If it ever comes down to it, I can try to convince my brother to let you crash on the couch for a night." 

She paused, and her eyes flicked to the side; "probably won't *agree* to it, but I can try."

"Alas indeed, but you're very kind. I take it your brother isn't as delightfully free spirited as yourself?"

"Somehow, despite being twins I inherited all the fun in the family. Greg's got a stick so far up his ass he's practically a scarecrow." She snorted derisively, thinking of her brother’s stiff demeanor. "I love him to death, but he...we don't see eye to eye on things anymore."

Dorian put a hand on her shoulder and nodded gravely. "Growing apart from friends and family, it seems we both understand that all too well."

Morgan nodded back, sighing softly. "Yeah. Seems like we're both all too familiar with that kind of hurt." She frowned "it'd be one thing if he understood. But he doesn't. He's too wrapped up in his obsession with appearances, and who he wants us to be."

Dorian's expression darkened. "You don't say. Now that's an attitude shared by far too many people. Keeping up appearances for a fantasy instead of letting people see who you  _ really _ are."

Morgan's eyes narrowed as she glared down the hall with a hum of agreement. "People in our old town were all too obsessed with appearances. Greg especially." She grit her teeth. " 'Morgan, don't ruin this for me. I just want things to be *nooormal* for once. You can't go around looking like some kind of punk, here, wear this sweater and spend time with *respectable people*' " she mocked in a slightly deeper voice.

Dorian groaned. "Now where have I heard that kind of boring drivel before. Ah, right," he shook his head. "What a pity your brother ascribes to it-- If you ever need a sympathetic ear, however, I'm sure you can find me around."

"I'd be delighted, Dorian." She lightly punched his shoulder. "Same goes for you, huh? You have something on your mind, why not come to me? I could use the friend and company, given how new this place is."

"It would truly be my pleasure, Ms. Morgan. Free-thinkers like us ought to stick together."

000


	5. Good Cheer

As Greg strolled into shop class, he found that the teacher had already decided to assign partners to working stations around the room.

‘ _ Looks like I won't have any say over who I'm spending the class with’ _ . He sighed to himself, and gave Bobby in the corner a little wave as he looked around for where he'd been assigned.

Bobby shot him a pair of finger guns. It seemed to be his favorite gesture.

Greg had been assigned in the back of the class, to the desk by the window. A young man was there, leaning on his fingerless-gloved hand. Greg looked him over casually as he sidled up to the desk. He was tall, broad shouldered, and dressed in a pair of ripped jeans and a brown jean vest over a black band tee. His neck length brown hair fell around his pensive face as he stared out the window at the sunny day outside, looking listless and bored.

“Hey. I'm Greg." He pointed to the desk, where there was a tented 3.5 card with his name on it.

The boy glanced over at him with a low huff of breath, and pointed to his own card. "Name's Lance." After a moment, he turned from the window and looked Greg over. "Looks like we're gonna be partners for the year, huh?"

"Looks like," he nodded, and rubbed the back of his neck. "You a shop class kinda guy?"

"I'm pretty good with my hands, yeah," he said with a slight laugh. "Building birdhouses can't be that hard. Not like you need a degree in structural engineering or whatever"

"Good point. I'm pretty sure this class isn't going to be *quite* that advanced. Uh, I hope anyway."

"Not much of a shop guy yourself huh?" Lance asked. He glanced at Greg's tank top briefly before looking out the window again. "You look like you'd rather be at gym"

"Kinda, yeah," he admitted, flexing his arms subtly-- or at least as subtly as he could. "My last school didn't really do shop class. But I'm down to give it a shot."

Lance snorted through his nose. "Thought so." He stretched out, bringing his arms up to stretch out his back "Maybe we'll get lucky and get to work with an engine or something."

"That'd be pretty cool, honestly. Wouldn't know anymore about it than building a birdhouse to start with but  _ supposedly _ that's the point of school I guess."

" 'Supposedly'. Trust me, anything useful I learned didn't come from frickin GC High."

Just as the bell rang for class to start, Greg glanced up to see the kid Bobby had called Toad shuffle into the classroom, and take his place.... next to Bobby.

"Oh wonderful," Greg grumbled.

Lance too had gleaned up to watch Todd take a seat, but unlike Greg he didn’t look particularly annoyed. He gave the kid a half wave, before turning back to Greg.

"You alright?"

Greg noticed the little wave-- and the kid's enthusiastic wave back-- and his mouth wrinkled. He shrugged. "Just caught that guy creeping on my sister earlier. Is he a friend of yours?"

"Ain't surprised. Todd can be kind of a creep sometimes." Lance snorted. "But yeah. I guess. We hang out."

"Guess everybody needs a friend," Greg shrugged. _ Wonderful. _

"Todd's a good guy." Lance said with a shrug, "More than some other chumps in this dump, at least."

"Oh yeah? I'm uh, still trying to get the lay of the land around here, so to speak," he admitted cautiously. "any advice?"

Lance leaned on his hand, "New in town, huh? Well, first thing...don't let the rumor mill get to you. People around here like to latch onto things and try getting under your skin, you know? Especially the guys on the football team and their lackeys." He shot a dirty look at a young man with short black hair dressed in the school's letterman jacket. "People like Todd and I get a bad rap from idiots like that. But what ya hear ain't exactly always the truth."

_ Great, either this guy's a jock hater or the school team is a bunch of jerks. Either way, I'm not exactly thrilled. _

"Yeah, I guess I've already seen how fast the rumor mill works around here," Greg grumbled, thinking of the incident in the gym earlier.

"Already huh?" Lance offered his gloved hand. "Welcome to the frickin club."

Greg took his hand a little hesitantly. He wasn’t sure he liked the vibe off of this guy, but he didn’t want to be making enemies with his class partner on the first day, either.. "Can't say I'm ecstatic about it, but thanks."

"Yeah, it ain't exactly an esteemed club or nothin'."

"Honestly, wasn't much different back in Maine. Guess you can't escape gossip." Greg crossed his arms once he had his hand back, growing at the memory.

"Maine, huh?" Lance raised his eyebrow. "What kinda rep did you have back there?"

"Mostly for going after anybody who talked shit about my sister," he admitted.

"Your sister huh? The one Todd hit on?" Lance shifted to face him, a half smile on his face "kind of the protective type, aintcha?"

"I'm assuming you don't have a sister." Greg felt himself becoming increasingly displeased with Lance's tone.

Lance snorted, leaning on his hand "I hardly even have a frickin' dad, no. I don't got a sister."

"Guess we've got the dad thing in common," Greg grumped, gazing up at the ceiling.

"Sorry I'm late, class," their teacher said, as she swooped into the room. "Let's get started, shall we?"

000

After school Morgan followed the signs for Cheerleading tryouts back to the gym. There'd been a big to-do when she'd joined the team at her last school, hopefully there wouldn't be as much of an...  _ issue _ .... Here. She could only hope, given the trouble she’d already had earlier with the locker. Had that even been sorted out yet?

With her jaw set and her resolve steeled, remembering her conversation with Dorian. She stepped out into the gymnasium with all the confidence she could muster. She clawed her way onto the cheer team before, even if those backbiting bitches turned on her * _ again _ * once she...changed...But fuck it, shed she'd do it again here.

When Morgan stepped inside she found there were a * _ lot _ * of cheer hopefuls, standing in clumps or sitting on the bleachers, all of them in their gym clothes, waiting for their turn to make an attempt. Morgan had already changed into her black , midriff baring gym shirt and shorts, not wanting to risk more locker trouble. The proceedings were being run, it seemed, by a severe looking woman in a sharp suit, and a much smaller woman in a skirt she was ordering around..

One of the girls on the bleachers waved Morgan over as she came in. She waved back with a brief expression of surprise as she walked over and took a seat next to the girl

"Hey."

The bespectacled brunette was in a green tank top and a pair of khaki shorts, her hair pulled back high on her head in a scrunchy. She realized as she sat down beside her that she’d seen her once already today.

"Hey! Morgan, right? Theatre class?" she pointed to her with a grin.

"That's right." Morgan winked, crossing her incredibly pale legs as she leaned back on the bleacher behind her. "Darcy, right?"

"Got it in one! looks like we both aced this whole 'short term memory' thing."

Morgan snickered "Congrats to us, huh? Maybe we'll ace this bullshit too." She gestured out at the sea of hopefuls and leaned on her hand. "You're trying out for the cheer team too, huh?"

"I needed something that looks good on a transcript and community service requires a car," Darcy nodded. How practical. "What about you? I wouldn't have thought that cheerleading would be your deal. Really bucking the whole spooky girl stereotype."

"What can I say, "I'm nothing if not full of surprises. Besides. Maybe I'm planning on turning the cheer team into my dark coven or something. Like this was some kind of cheesy B Movie." She wiggled her fingers at the girls currently trying out. "Cheerleaders from Hell 2: *Three Cheers to Die*"

"I think I saw that on skinemax," Darcy nodded. "Does that mean you're going to teach me some witchcraft if I get on the team?"

Morgan grinned but was careful to hide her teeth. "That's right. And we'll go , like, sacrifice a jock or two too."

"Oh shit we're getting hard core here, I think I need to get a permission slip from my mom for sacrificing anything bigger than a goat."

"Come on , Darcy, live on the wild side. "What's life without disobeying a mom or two? or a little casual dark sacrifice?"

"I'll take it under advisement, but no promises," Darcy nodded. She paused. "Unless it can help my chances for Vasser in which case hand me the ceremonial knife."

"I hear it looks real good on a resume." Morgan drawled with amusement.. "Right there under community service: 'dark witch' . Instant scholarship."

"Well shit, the things they don't teach you in those college application classes.”

"Blatant witch erasure. That's what it is." Morgan smirked. "Good luck with the tryouts, though. Here's hoping we both get on the squad."

"Here's hoping, witchy lady." Darcy raised her hand for a high five which Morgan accepted enthusiastically.

Behind them, the severe woman watched the last tryout with a sharp frown. "Ugh. Very... * _ nice _ *... young lady. But I'm afraid you're not quite what the team is looking for." She turned to shoot her smoldering glance Morgan's way "Miss Connelly, you're next."

Morgan grinned, and slipped to her feet. "Looks like it's my time to shine, Darcy. Wish me luck."

"Break a leg! except, like, not really. You know what I mean." She gave her a thumbs up.

Unfortunately, some of the girls hanging around the gym didn't look as enthusiastic about Morgan taking the floor as Darcy did. She heard someone scoff.

Morgan glanced over at them as she passed with a dark scowl, her fingers curling by her sides. If they wanted to scoff, she'd just do even *better* to shut them up.

The woman in charge checked her watch, before looking at Morgan. She was a tall, severe woman in her 40s with narrowed amber eyes behind rectangular frames. Her grey streaked black hair was pulled into a bun. She was, for her part, the very model of a strict principal. Like she came out of a box labeled 'Stock Teacher: Strict'.

"Take the floor, Miss Connelly. Don't dilly dally and waste my time."

Someone switched on some canned music for Morgan, and she was allowed to present a bit of freeform routine with the rest of the crowd watching, some more dubious than others.

Morgan took a deep breath as the music switched on. She prepared herself, remembering all she learned in the Red Oak Cheersquad as she let the music move her.

Despite her usual sardonic nature, she poured every damn ounce of cheer and enthusiasm into her routine, moving along with the music in rhythmic time with broad gestured and appealing twists and shakes of her slender body. She'd always been flexible and quick on her feet, and she poured every bit of sex appeal and attention-grabbing command into her cheering in the hopes of pumping up the audience, and making a good impression on the principal.

It had to be obvious to everyone there how talented Morgan was; she even managed to silence most of the whisperers. Though not all, as became clear when the music cut out, and it one suddenly all too easy to hear conversation.

_ \--"was good, but, he shouldn't even *be here*." _

Morgan stopped, her head snapping towards the sound of the voice.

_ He shouldn't even be here _ . The words played in her head as a familiar anger bubbled up inside her. Morgan's gaze found the girl who'd been speaking-- her mouth suddenly a hard line. She at least had the social understanding to look embarrassed-- but only at having been caught. She and her two blond friends had equally snide and disgusted looks on their early-nose-job faces.

From beside her, she heard an approving 'hmm' from the woman watching tryouts, and for a moment was ready for the worst. If that on ewas siding against her she was done for. 

"Now that's what I was hoping to see. That kind of  _ enthusiasm _ is exactly what we need in this year's cheer team." There was a sound of pen on paper as the small woman beside her made a note on a clipboard. "You've got a good chance of making captain, young lady. Return to the bleachers."

With a jolt of surprise,Morgan headed back to her seat. She glowered at the girls as she settled back beside Darcy, her expression softening as she tore her eyes away from them and glanced at the bespectacled girl.

"Hey, wow, you didn't need that luck I wished you at all," Darcy said.

"I used to be on the cheer squad back home, believe it or not, " she explained with a half smile. "But I needed all the luck I could get."

"Principal Darkholme seemed to like you," Darcy shrugged. "Which is actually kinda spooky cause she doesn't like anybody."

"She doesn't seem the type." Morgan smirked. So that was the Principal… "She puts the dude from the breakfast club to shame on sheer authoritarian severity, doesn't she?... "but if I impressed her, I must have done a good job."

"Dude, you like, blew it out of the water. We're all going to look like a bunch of nerds compared to you." Darcy grinned. "I mean I *am* a nerd so like, fair play. But still. You did great. Looking forward to serving under you, captain."

Darcy gave her a mock salute and Morgan saluted her in return, grinning wider. 

"Looking forward to your service. Go knock their socks off, soldier." She winked. "Let's show these bitches and their cheap dye jobs what for."

"Skinemax cheer coven, here I come," Darcy declared, hopping up as the name 'Darcy Lewis' was called.

"I'm wishing you luck, Darcy!" She purred "enjoy!"

She settled into her seat and waited to watch.


	6. Thicker Skin

"I have a ride waiting, but we should totally freak out over the results when they post them on the board in the morning. We can either break out the confetti or go into half-mourning," Darcy rambled as they headed to their lockers after the trials.

Morgan ran her hand through her hair with an amused grin. "I'll pack an extra veil, you know. Just in case." She winked at her. "Let's meet up first thing, huh?"

"Perfect, catcha then,  _ captain _ ." Darcy flashed her mock salute, and jogged off down the hallway.

"Catch you then." Morgan waved her off with an amused little grin, before she shouldered her own bag "Guess I'll head on out..."

She checked her phone as she started walking.

"Hey, M _ organ _ ," a bitchy voice snapped from behind her. "Headed home already?"

Morgan stopped, turning slowly to look over her shoulder with narrowed eyes. "Yeah, actually. See, some of us have lives, you know?"

It was the girl that Morgan had caught talking about her in cheer trials girl, and her two lackies. The bitch smiled like a snake.

"Awww, that's too bad. We were thinking we could hang out, you know? Maybe give you some fashion advice."

Morgan put her hand on her hip, turning to lean against the wall as she kept her eyes on them. "That so? Didn't know the Abercrombie and Bitch Gang had an opening." She smirked, flipping her inverted cross between her fingers. "Believe it or not, I'm *pretty* savvy with fashion."

The bitch crossed her arms, her eyes hard. "Well then, maybe we can give you some *other* advice, right girls?"

Her friend giggled, covering her mouth with her manicured fingers. "Oh I think we can, Becky. I think it's advice he *really* needs."

Morgan's eye twitched, and she crossed her arms 

"Do you three have a point between you? Because I'm about to fuck off. After all, I don't have any time for girls who aren't even going to make cheer team."

"You want the point,  _ miss _ Connelly?" Becky snorted. "Here it is. Know where you aren't wanted. The cheer team doesn't need * _ freaks _ * like you on it. Got that?"

Morgan's eyes darkened further, her jaw setting stiffly as a soft hiss left her lips. "Is that so? I'm a freak, am I?" 

In the waning light of the afternoon, the school's hallway was home to plenty of shadows. The outlines of windows and trees danced in the darkness around them, a stretched reflection in the light of the lowering sun.

Angry tears beaded at the edge of Morgan's eyes as she took a step forward. "Why don't you just piss off?"

There was the sudden sound of a locker shutting hard a little further down the hall, and a warm, but slightly ominous voice, with a russian accent, cut through the scene..

"I imagine you ladies are late for something, is that not so?" 

A large silhouette stood in the light of the school's doorway.

Becky made a face, shrinking back toward her friends as they were no longer alone in the hall. "Hiiii, Peter."

At that, the shadows all seemed to release at once. The shadowy branches of the trees which had started to crawl along the ground in stretching silhouettes now looked like normal shadows once more. For a brief moment they almost seemed to shudder, before snapping back.

But Morgan, who's eyes were dark and furious, slowly untensed as she glanced at the doorway.

"Uhm..." One of other girls said "i don't  _ thiiink _ we're late for anything..."

Becky eyed the shadows nervously, before she snorted. "Whatever, come on, girls, only nerds stay this long after school." She strode forward, past Peter, and out the door.

Morgan hissed through her teeth before stamping her foot. "Go get another dye job, you ugly bitch!" she shouted after her and her friends left the door.

The broad young man sighed and strode forward toward Morgan, and spoke soothingly. "They cackle like crows, do they not? But you should pay them no mind."

"they called me a freak," Morgan muttered, leaning on the wall as she looked over at the big young man. "We were shipped out here to escape that kind of thing, and here it is happening again. And I didn't even *do* anything."

Peter had a strong face, and soft dark hair cut short but not cropped too close. He had a warm, somber face, and gentle eyes. He was dressed plainly, in a pair of jeans, t-shirt and unzipped hoodie. He carried a heavy backpack easily in one arm. He offered her his free hand.

"People control their fear of what they don't understand through petty attacks. Especially people who are... immature. I'm sure you're no more freak than I, Miss Connelly."

Morgan took his hand, tears leaking from her eyes as she took a deep breath, her fingers tightening against his palm.

"...immature or not, they don't have to take it out on me. I'm *tired* of them always taking it out on me. In Maine...here. It'll never stop." Her eyes narrowed, and in a voice that dripped with bitterness and hurt she whispered half to herself, "...if we were back in Maine, i could have *really* given them something to fear."

Peter squeezed her hand gently, and glanced at the shadows. "Ah...yes. Miss Morgan, why don't we find somewhere quiet and chat, yes? I will buy you a soda."

Morgan sniffed, and wiped her eyes with her other hand. "Yeah that...that sounds nice. Thanks...Peter, was it? that's what that...girl..called you."

"That's right, Peter. Well, technically it's Piotr, Piotr Rasputin, but you can only ask so much in terms of pronunciation," he explained with a smile. He put his hand on her shoulder, and started to lead her down the hall.

Morgan followed him with a weak smile "Piotr, huh?" she repeated, taking a moment to make sure she got the pronunciation right. "I'm Morgan Connelly...nice to meet you." 

She pressed her free hand to her head, trying to ward off the impending ache of stress. "....Sorry about getting all emotional. It's just...a lot. I"ve been dealing with this kind of shit for years, I should have a thicker skin."

Piotr chuckled softly. "Even the thickest skin can not always protect the heart. But it's no bad thing to have a soft one." he pushed open the door of an empty student lounge; there were chairs and vending machines inside.

Morgan smiled at him wanly, "You should transfer to our theater class. You've got a real way with poetry, Piotr." She walked over to the vending machine with a sigh "but I guess I see what you mean.."

"I took theatre last year I'm afraid, but thank you." He handed her his student ID. "Please, get whatever you like."

Morgan put it into the machine with a thankful smile. "you want anything, big guy?"

"Why not. Thank you. "

Morgan put the card through the machine, buying them a couple of drinks. She handed one to him before taking a seat with a sigh. "Thanks again. It's a real nice gesture, you didn't have to buy me anything."

"It's nothing, really," he said, taking the drink and sitting down gingerly in the chair beside her. "I am hoping that we can be friends."

"Friends, huh?" Morgan asked, staring at the top of her soda with the trace of a smile for a moment before she popped it open and took a sip. "You'd want to be friends with a 'spooky freak' like me? ...might be nice. You seem like a nice guy."

"It is my fondest ambition to be considered a good man, though I often fall terribly short of it," he confided. "But I don't find you 'spooky', I suppose because I am a bit odd myself."

Morgan looked him over again with a quirk of her eyebrow as she sipped her shoulder.

"Is that so?"

"You're not alone here, Morgan," he told her gently, but firmly. "I assure you."

Morgan was quiet for a moment , but when she finally spoke it was quiet and a little pained.

"...You don't really know how odd I really am, Piotr. No matter what Greg says, I'm not like other people. There's a reason we were run out of town, and it's got nothing to do with why those girls are mocking me. Not i _ n totality _ anyway."

Piotr shook his head. "I believe that I understand more than you think, though perhaps it must be shown, not spoken of. May I do something which you may find alarming, and which I must ask you not to speak of?"

Morgan leaned on her hand, not certain where he was going with this. But there was no sense saying no. What was he gonna do, flash her? "I'm a girl who keeps her secrets," she purred, "you show me yours, I'll show you mine."

The young man merely nodded, missing, or at least ignoring, the subtext. He reached out his muscular arm, and pulled the hoodie back from it, showing pale flesh, up to his elbow.

And then something happened. The sinew in his arm tensed, and a silvery light bloomed at his fingertips, spreading down his arm to the crook over it, and where it passed, Piotr's arm seemed to have been covered by, or converted to, silvery metal plates, like a suit of armor.

"Holy shit." Morgan whispered. She reached over and touched it, placing her hand on his wrist "holy  _ shi _ t"

Piotr smiled softly as she touched him, not flinching away. The metal was warm, like body heat.

"A most curious condition, yes?"

"Real curious." Morgan breathed quietly. "You can turn yourself into a literal knight in shining armor with an ability like that, eh? The girls must love you."

"Regrettably I have not found this to be the case, as of yet." He took his arm back gingerly, and it shifted back to pink flesh, the plates seeming to fuse away into normal skin. He pulled his sleeve down.

"Tragic." Morgan told him, with an air of amazement still in her voice. "Maybe you'll have more luck soon." 

She brushed her hand through her hair, tucking it over a very much pointed ear and grinned wide enough to show her fangs "I  _ did _ promise to show you mine, so...don't tell anyone what I show you, huh? If my brother finds out I'm 'misbehaving' he'll have a fit."

"You have my word," Piotr nodded. "Though I believe I saw some of it in the hall, already, unless I am much mistaken."

"...." Morgan flushed, her cheeks darkening as she shrugged her shoulders. Not stealthy, it seemed. She was as bad as Greg. "...It may have started acting up out there, yeah. I...try to control it, but.."

She reached her hand out towards the shadow cast by the vending machine. It crawled along the ground like slithering snakes, until it rose **up**, and curled into her waiting hand like wisps of smoke. The animate shadow first formed a skeletal hand as she concentrated, before it twisted and flowed into the form of a single rose, which she offered to him.

"Go on. Take it."

Piotr looked at the object in mild surprise, his eyebrows raised, but he did as he was told, and accepted the flower. He held it up to his face and turned it over in his fingers.It was the perfect form of a rose, but all made in the same matte black, as if plucked from its own shadow.

"Marvelous."

Morgan wryly grinned her fang-toothed smile. "People back home called me a monster. A witch. A demon. You know, all those fun things." She gestured to the rose. "But whatever I am, the shadows are mine to control."

He shook his head and smiled softly at her. 

"You are no monster, Morgan, this I know. As I said to you, there are more of us than you think. My mentor, a man named Charles Xavier, calls us mutants. An evolution of mankind."

Morgan twisted her hand, letting the shadow slither over it as she turned her eyes downward in thought. She smiled wryly.

"...an evolution of mankind, huh?...mutants. I guess in my heart I always knew me and Greg weren't the only--the only ones out there who weren't human..." She glanced at him. "but as far as I knew, it was just the two of us back home in Red Oak..." she hesitated a moment before asking "is your 'mentor'...one of us too?"

"He is," Piotr nodded, "a gifted man in many senses of the word. He is a teacher and a guide to many of us who fall outside the human norm. He runs an institute, a sort of boarding school, where we can be ourselves, and he can help us learn to understand our own gifts."

"Huh." Morgan dissipated the shadow, which returned to normal behind her; though it did seem to flicker between shapes now and again as she looked into her drink. She smiled sadly. "A boarding school where we can be ourselves huh?...where we don't have to hide...where we can learn. That sounds too good to be true."

"It may sound that way, but I assure you it's very real. And the 'too good to be true' feeling may wear off when I tell you it does mean extra classes to attend, and dorms."

Morgan laughed. 

"Tch. Ah, there's the downside. More school and a roommate." She wiped her eyes, which seemed to keep watering despite her best efforts. "My brother, Greg. He keeps telling me he wants things to be 'normal'. Like...that we should force ourselves to fit in. That I should dress the right way and act the right way...but we  _ aren't _ normal. Especially since the change...mutation, I guess."

"It's understandable to want to fit in, to bury what makes you different, when you have no way to express that difference without rejection, even fear," Piotr nodded. "Perhaps you and your brother could come to visit our institute for an afternoon. I know you would find it welcoming, and I am certain that Professor Xavier would be happy to meet you."

Morgan leaned back in her chair with a half smile. “Yeah. You know what? maybe...I'll bring that up to him tonight. See if he'd like to tour the place with me. No harm in meeting the guy and looking around..."

"No harm at all," he agreed. "I will look forward to your visit. Perhaps if you like, there, I can show you my full 'suit of armor'."

"You know what, Piotr? I'm looking forward to that." She flipped her hair over her shoulder, "and maybe I can show you my  _ teleportation _ bullshit, too."

"I would be honored to see," he said with a smile. He raised his drink to her. "But I am afraid I must be going. One of those 'extra classes' I mentioned calls me."

Morgan raised her can to him with a slim smile "See you around, Piotr."

She stood and had one of the shadows reach over and lift her bag for her. Snatching it out of the tendril , she threw it over her shoulder. "Enjoy those after school lessons. I'd better get home before my brother blows a gasket."

With a quick text to her brother reading ' _ Meet you at home _ ', she headed out the door.


	7. New Friends

Greg had his gym clothes on again when found the martial arts club practicing out on what seemed to technically be the soccer pitch. He looked the assembled students over with a glance, and gave a wave to Kitty, who was doing her stretches.

Kitty stretched out her arms, as she worked on limbering up. She was in a bright pink t-shirt with a pair of matching gym shorts and had a wide smile on her face as she saw him.

"Greg!!! Oh GOOD ! I'm so glad you actually came on by!" she chirped. "You're thinking of joining?"

There were a number of students on the field, young men and women alike, some of them stretching and two of them already sparring in the makeshift ring. One of the girls in the ring had short and wavy honey-blond hair. She was tall, muscular, and had a rather nasty scar across one exposed shoulder that looked like it nearly bisected her arm.

She circled her opponent with her fists up, her freckled face beaming in excitement as she waited for them to make the first move.

"Don't see why I wouldn't join. More fun to get a social workout, right? I can do reps any time."

Greg smiled broadly, watching the pair 'in the ring' for a moment as he answered. As he watched, he saw the girl's opponent rush forward...only to have her arm grabbed and for her to be flipped down *hard* on the map by the blond haired girl.

Kitty bobbed her head, and finished stretching her arms. "You're right about that, Greg!Like, a social workout keeps you going, because you always have someone to push you to do better."

"Right? Wanting to be the best is great motivation.So, you said this is mixed martial arts, right? Do you have a specific style?"

"I do aikido, mostly." Kitty explained with a bob of her head. "But I also know a few other martial arts...some general street fighting techniques I learned from Mr. Logan..." She counted on her fingers "A bit of Judo....some Special Forces CQC..."

Greg whistled, impressed by the sheer volume of techniques she was apparently familiar with. Was she really serious? "Damn that's a hell of a resume, Kitty." He grinned, just a littel awkwardly. "I guess I know who I want giving me pointers."

"Yep! Like, don't worry. I'll make sure not to be  _ too _ punishing if you ask me for lessons." She winked playfully.

"I really hope we get the chance to, like, spar a bit you know? Usually the only one who can keep up with me is Lacey, and that's 'cause she's pretty darn tough."

"Lacey huh? Which one's she?" he asked, looking the fighting pair over.

Kitty pointed over at the ring, where the tall girl had landed a solid punch to the other girl's gut, and knocked her down into the mat, pinning her for the win.

"That's Lacey Thorne. She's done the local circuit before, you know, like... semi-pro MMA?"

Greg crossed his arms, feeling more intimidated by the second.. "Damn, uh, I feel a little out of my league all of a sudden, in terms of training, anyway."

Kitty lightly punched his shoulder. "Well that's what the club's all about, you know! training, exercise and a little light competition."

He grinned, summoning back his enthusiasm. Red Oak had never had a club like this. They had never even had a boxing team. "You know what, you're right. And I'm excited for the opportunity."

_ And definitely not worried these girls are going to absolutely kick my ass despite the 100 lbs I have on them _ .

Kitty punched her palm with a wink. "So, you know, let's get you into the ring!"

000

The hardest part about being in the ring with Lacey, as the two of them struggled against one another, Greg discovered, was keeping himself in check while he got his ass beat. Lacey Thorne was a powerhouse of a girl. She hit hard, and she hit  _ precisely _ , like she knew the exact places to strike someone to bring them to their knees for the pin. She'd started the match simply trying to flip him and knock the wind out of him, but he'd landed a few solid blows on her. Enough to make her  _ really _ start fighting-- which was about when the sound thrashing began. 

As the match wore on he was fighting down the rising tension in his body more than he was fighting Lacey herself. He prayed to whoever was listening that no one noticed anything amiss, and the moment he felt that he couldn't hold back any longer-- he folded under his opponent with grace.

Once he'd conceded she finished the pin, and stood, offering her hand with a wide and genial smile.

In a voice that held just a trace of scratchy damage to it, the first thing she'd said was, "Thanks for the fight! You really gave me a workout there."

Greg rubbed his shoulder with an embarrassed grin, taking her hand to haul himself to his feet. "Yeah? Glad to hear it, Lacey."

Lacey stretched once she let go of him, rubbing her left shoulder-- the scarred one-- for a moment as she grinned back at him. 

"I actually had to break out my finishers. Ya know, Greg, you might just have a talent for this kind of thing. Especially with a bit of training."

He rolled his shoulders, getting the kinks out. "I'd love to give it a shot. Like I told Kitty, I haven't exactly touched martial arts for years."

"You used to, huh? What style?" Lacey asked curiously.

"Karate. Mom signed me and my sister up when I asked when we were 10, but I think she just was trying to get us out of the house."

"I've been there." Lacey laughed pleasantly, running her hand through her hair "...I wanted to play football when I was a kid but--people don't take kindly to a girl trying out for the team, so I kind of fell into MMA, and found a place I enjoyed. But before that? I drove my mom crazy hanging around home all day."

Greg chuckled. "I guess that's something moms have in common huh? but, I'm glad you found something that you enjoyed."

Lacey combed her fingers through her short and wavy hair with a smile, putting the strands a bit back in place after their tussle. 

"Thanks. Hopefully you'll find you enjoy it too. You hit hard, i'd *love* to see what you can do by the end of the year." She leaned a little closer. "Who knows, maybe you'll even be able to take me down."

"I'll be damned pleased if I can just get you to a stand still, honestly," he admitted with bemusement. "I'll be working hard to get there."

Lacey held up her fist for a fistbump, which he happily returned. 

"I'll look forward to it," She promised, and then she smiled slightly, cocking her head. "Hey, what kinda stuff do you like doing outside of school?" She asked the question as she pulled out a tube of lipstick, working to paint her lips a vibrant red. "Maybe we can hang out sometime.'

. "Hey, yeah, I'd love to. You can help me figure out what there is to do around here."

"There's a ton if you know where to look." She assured him. "There's actually a teen dance club around here. Called Calamity."

He raised his eyebrow. ‘Teen dance club’ was not something that sounded real to him. It sounded more like something in a tv drama. "Seriously? Man, New York really  _ does _ have everything."

"Yeah, seriously! It's pretty cool. Kitty and I have gone a few times together."

"I'd love to check it out," he nodded eagerly. Dancing wasn’t exactly his thing, but it sounded like a cool place to hang out and meet people. "Sounds pretty cool, honestly. We didn't have anything like that in Maine. Most of the kids hung out at school, or by the 7-11."

"Wow!" Lacey giggled, putting away her tube of lipstick. "You guys were *real* rural, weren't you?"

Greg nodded, and shrugged his shoulders in admission. "Honestly yeah. I'm gonna need to get used to this whole living in a city thing. I'm looking forward to it."

"Well, I've been living here my whole life, so I'm real pleased to show you around."

"I'll take you up on that, Lacey. Consider me your new pal who's trying not to be such a farm boy."

“You got it,  _ Buff-Luke-Skywalker _ ." She punched his shoulder.

As the two of them were chattering, a voice called out from out on the edge of the field; "Greg Connelly, might I have a word with you?"

"Oh, shit," Lacey whistled, "Looks like Miss Prez wants a word with you, Farm Boy."

Greg looked up quickly and oriented on the voice, trying not to be nervous about it. "Shit, yeah Bobby mentioned that might happen. Alright, I'll catcha later, Lacey. Tell Kitty where I ran off to if she asks, will you?" He smiled at Lacy, and parted with a wave before he jogged off toward the voice.

Waiting for him at the edge of the field stood a striking young woman. Dressed in a long navy blue coat and stormcloud grey blouse, she stood with crossed arms and a small smile. Stark white hair--.unusual on someone her age-- fell around her shoulders, parted only by a dark grey headband keeping it out of her face. As Greg came close, it was clear she was  _ quite _ tall. Taller than him.

She tilted her head to meet his eyes, and gestured towards the school. "I was hoping I might be able to speak to you, Greg Connolly."

She paused for a moment glancing out at the field (and at Lacey who Greg saw blew her a flirty kiss), then back at Greg. 

"In private,” she added.

Greg frowned a little, the nervousness returning, but he nodded. "Sure.... whatever you want, I guess. Miss? Madam?...."

_ He realized he was at a loss at how to address a student council president. _

"Madam?" The young woman chuckled pleasantly, shaking her head "Please, I'm not your teacher. You can call me Ororo, your peer."

She turned and began walking towards the school

"Got it, Ororo," he said, gamely, smiling and brushing some hair out of his face--careful of his ears-- as he followed after her. "Like I told Bobby, we didn't really do student government out in Red Oak."

She glanced over her shoulder with the trace of a smile, “Then I hope your teachers didn't prove to be tyrants."

Ororo led him into the hall, where he briefly saw a tall girl with an eyepatch slam her locker shut and walk not towards the school's exit, but towards the vocational classrooms with an expression of utter apathy. The student council president gave her a brief look before waving for Greg to follow her down towards the administrative offices.

Greg glanced at the girl with the eyepatch, and then hurried after Ororo, his mouth drawn tightly. "Tyrants? Never really thought about it... maybe they kinda were..."

"Then it sounds like you could have used a student council. Some doubt what we do for the student body.but it is our intention to act as a buffer between the faculty and the students and make certain their voices are heard by Principal Darkholme and the others." As she came to a small office she opened it with a key. "Come. Have a seat."

Greg nodded, and shuffled into the office with her, looking around curiously. It was a small office...with enough room for a single table in the center with a ring of chairs, a small cooler, and a blackboard with various items of the day.

_ ( -The Lunchroom Issue: No, we will not replace the vending machines with ice cream makers, stop submitting this for debate _

_ -Harassment and Rumor-mongering: Campaign against bullying _

_ -Investigation into locker break-ins and subsequent false allegations) _

"Thanks. So... they actually let you do that?” he asked as he read over the chalkboard. “Argue for the students. Does it ever work?"

"It has in the past, and it will continue to do so as long as I am president," Orororeplied firmly. She gestured to the cooler. "Would you like a drink? We do not have much, but I would like you to be comfortable for this discussion."

"Uh, sure, thanks," he nodded, glancing away from the blackboard for a moment, and pulling out a chair to sit down. "Quite the agenda. Would be great if you could really do something about the bullying."

Bending down to retrieve two bottles of water from the cooler she passed one to him and then she sat opposite him and folded her hands. She sighed and met his eyes. "It would be. It's a difficult problem to face, of course. People so often fear what they don't understand. And some react to that fear...poorly, lashing out at those around them who they perceive as different, harming them with words and action."

Ororo paused briefly and gestured at the board. "The gossip mill and harassment many students face everyday is one facet of this problem that we seek to stop...as well as letting those affected know they are not alone."

Gre smiled slightly ruefully and twisted the top off his water, taking a sip of it, then he sighed, too. "Not alone... yeah I guess. Easy to feel like you are when it seems like people are just trying to take you out at the knees at the first chance. Bobby told you about this locker bullshit, right?"

"He did. Yes. It seems it was an administrative oversight..." There seemed for a moment like there was more she was going to say, or wanted to say before she shook her head and continued. "Rest assured, your sister is now assigned to the proper gym class and a locker in the women's locker room. I am truly sorry for the trouble she's faced, and I plan on taking it up with the administrator responsible.”

Her fingers tensed together, folded on the table before her. "And if your sister faces any bullying or harassment due to this incident, I hope she will feel comfortable coming to me. I will make certain she is helped."

Greg nodded, his jaw set. As he listened. The girl seemed sincere, that much was certain. But he doubted there was really anything she could do now that the genie was out of the bottle. 

"Yeah, thanks," he said, roughly. "Just wish we could have avoided the whole fucking--sorry-- mess. We were supposed to get a fresh start here without...." he trailed off, sighing.

"I wish you could have as well." Ororo agreed looking up to meet his eyes with her steady gaze. "It was unfair to you and your sister. Terribly so. I understand the desire for a fresh start. While things perhaps may not have gone to plan, you two should know that you are not alone here."

She gestured toward him with an open palm as she spoke.

"Yeah? Heh, thanks," he mumbled, not sure what more to do with the offering of acceptance. "I'm sure that'll be some comfort to Morgan. You guys have like, an LGBT club or something?"

"We do. If she wishes to join, I'll put in a word with the club advisor." She paused significantly, not breaking eye contact, "but I'm afraid I mean something else."

Greg felt his whole body tense, his fingers going stiff around his water. "Oh yeah? And what's that?"

Ororo picked up her previously untouched bottle, not yet opening it as she spoke.

"You and your sister are gifted, are you not? From trusted friends of mine I have heard reports of dark mist and crawling shadows."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Greg lied, stiffly. His worst fear was coming true right in front of him. It was only the second day of class and they’d already been found out.

"Can I show you something? I ask that you keep it secret...as a sign of trust." Ororo looked deep into his eyes.

Greg's jaw remained tight, and he swallowed, his eyes flicking to the table and back up to Ororo, the conflict written with painful honesty on his face.

"Sure, go for it, I guess," he decided, roughly.

Ororo nodded her head, before she took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

When she opened them the bright blue of her irises gave way to a solid white, giving her eyes a strange and ethereal glow. She held her hands up, whispering softly under her breath. For a moment, the only thing that happened was a slight chill in the room...then a cold breeze...

And then there was the gathering storm cloud above her head-- _ inside the student council room _ . Snow began to drift down from above her, landing in increasingly heavy flakes upon the water bottle she held aloft, and the table.

Greg only felt himself holding his breath when he let it go in order to gasp, and it came out in a puff of warm fog. "Wha--" he looked around the room in wonder and surprise.

Ororo twisted her hand, and the cloud began to turn and roil, lightning flashing through it's darkening shape. And after a moment, she waved and dismissed it--but the snow on the table and bottle...which had some flecks of ice in it now..remained.

"There are some who call me Storm," she said, the glow in her eyes dying down. "Others who've called me a goddess. But you can call me Ororo...someone who understands. A mutant, like you."

She offered him her hand, as she reminded him of what she’d said a moment before. "You aren't alone."

Greg shivered, and it was only partially from the sudden cold. For a moment, he was still, stiff, and unsure.

And then he took her hand.

"I... guess not... holy shit."

She took his hand in hers, giving it a squeeze as she continued.

"There are more of us than you think. Closer than you'd expect. My teacher, Professor Xavier, calls us mutants. A new step in the evolution of humankind."

It was a lot to take in. Greg wasn't sure where to start.

"Yeah? Professor Xavier? Does he uh, teach here?"

“No. But he heads the Xavier Institute here in town. It is a private academy and boarding house for people like us. He provides a safe haven where one does not have to hide, and can train themselves and learn to control their gifts."

"Seriously? Don't people.... notice?"

"No." She shook her head. "It's a large compound, set away from the city and protected. We have all the room we need and the outside world simply sees us as a school for gifted youngsters."

He rubbed the back of his neck as his hand eased slowly out of hers, "Sounds a little too good to be true."

"People often say that." Ororo chuckled. "And when they train with Logan, they often regret thinking so. We have extra lessons, training sessions...roommates."

"Training sessions?" Greg asked with curiosity.

"To help us better understand and utilize our gifts," she explained. "We have several teachers, all of whom are gifted as we are, who offer training seminars. Combat, control , endurance...piloting..."

"Seriously?" he asked, leaning forward. This was sounding better and better. If they had a way to train this… whatever it was… the same way he’d train any other muscle… that was something he didn’t want to pass up. "How many people are there? Do you let anybody who.... uh...."

"We have quite a few students currently," she answered, though avoiding the exact number. "And..yes...we are open to all mutants in need."

"Damn, uh," he looked down at the table. "Sounds, uh, sounds pretty nice, I have to admit, Ororo."

"Why don't you and your sister come by soon for a tour? You can meet the professor and decide for yourself if you wish to attend."She met his eyes with an enigmatic smile. "You may even see a few familiar faces."

"Familiar faces, huh?" Greg smiled slightly for the first time since he'd entered the room. "Alright. Just say where and when, and we'll be there."


	8. Fence Sitting

Morgan was heading out of school to catch the bus, after her long conversation with Piotr. There had been no point in changing her clothes, after all, Greg had already seen her. She made her way toward the bus shelter at the edge of campus, and heard an odd rattling sound as she approached-- and someone humming.

She stopped walking, too curious about the noise to worry about the bus, which didn’t seem to have arrived yet, anyway..

Idly, she fussed with her inverted cross necklace with a cock of her head, looking around to find the source of the noise. "Hmm?"

In a sheltered corner, she saw the boy from the hallway earlier who had grabbed her. He had a can of spray paint in one hand, and a pair of large, old headphones around his shoulders. She watched as he hummed to himself and hissed spray paint across the large fence behind the bus shelter area, dancing a rather goofy but strangely graceful dance as he worked.

The graffiti read "Normies Fuck Off" and he was working on a large pair hands with spiked bracelets, showing double middle fingers.

He paused, looking at it for a moment, and then suddenly leapt up into the air. Like * _ really _ * up in the air. Morgan saw him land on his feet at the top of the 10 foot high fence, squat down, and lean over with fantastic balance, to work on the detail of the fingers from a better angle.

Her eyes widened as she watched the boy's--.frankly impossible-- vertical leap. A smile crawled across her face as she flipped the cross in her fingers.

‘ _ Looks like Toad wasn't just a nasty nickname _ ’, she mused, before sauntering towards the fence, clapping her hands. She grinned, showing her fangs as she did so. 

"Looks great from down here, but I think you missed a spot."

She glanced over the fence, and saw a bit where his shadow crossed over the edge, pooling against its side and a bit on the top.

With a wicked grin, she stepped into the fence's shadow with a sudden flare of shadowy smoke. It curled around her, as if embracing her from the pool of shadows on the ground and in a moment she was gone.

And in the next second smoke poured from the boy's shadow as her hand reached out, grabbed the lip of the fence, and hauled the rest of her body out and next to him, balanced precariously on the edge beside him as the shadowy smoke started to dissipate.

"Want a hand?"

Toad startled visibly as she appeared next to him, and had to grapple not to drop the spray can-- but despite that, he didn't come within any danger of falling off the narrow fence.

He turned to her with a grin that matched hers. "Whoa, girl, looks like you ain't just a pretty face, huh?"

"I'm the whole package, leapfrog.” She smirked, brushing her hair away from her pointed ear to show it off rather than hide it."I could say the same about you. I saw that little hop of yours."

He whistled, looking her over with that same almost too wide, toothy smile. "Damn, guess the cat's outta the bag, huh. You some kinda sexy teleporting elf chick?"

"You didn't seem keen on hiding it all that much," she shrugged. "I saw you from the doorway."

Morgan let one leg dangle, swaying against the fence as she wiggled her fingers, casting a shadow of her own against the fence below.

Only the shadow didn't move in time with her, it turned it's head and seemed to laugh out of time with her movements.

"As for being an elf-- I prefer to think more like vampire," she continued, smiling to show him her fangs. "And I can do more than  _ just _ teleport."

"Vampire, huh? Cool, cool, I love it." He leaned down to spray the fence again, talking while half-hanging upside down. "As for hidin' it. What are people gonna do if they find out? Try to beat my ass? Tch, I'm there already, yo."

"Yeah I know. My brother tried to kick it earlier, after you grabbed my ass,” Morgan drawled. Her foot dangled as she leaned over to watch him paint. "Folks back home nearly started a witch hunt when they found out about us. Greg's terrified of it happening again. But...I don't give a fuck what they think, though...why *should* we hide it. You've got the right idea leapfrog."

"Well, hey, thanks for the compliment, dollface, don't get too many of those around here," He swung himself up by his legs and leaned in toward her. "Your brother ain't gonna be happy if he sees you 'round me, I'm guessin, yo. He uh.... he ain't around right now, right?" He looked suspiciously around the area.

"He's probably off sucking down protein powder and telling people about his lifting routine. You're safe." She grinned "for now. He'd go ballistic if he saw us talking, though."

A darkness that wasn't the shadows clouded her face for a moment, and she frowned before quickly trying to salvage a smile, looking down and into his eyes, and changing the subject.

"Anyway. I may have a compliment or two for you, sure. Love the tag art you're doing for one thing. Looks great."

He puffed up his chest a bit. "Not my best work, but like, it gets the point across. Probably oughta get outta here before Miss Prez or somebody comes by though, yo."

"Something tells me they aren't art appreciators like I am," Morgan agreed. "Race you down, leapfrog?"

"Ooooh, you're on, vampira!" Toad immediately threw himself off the fence toward the ground.

At the same time, Morgan attempted to slip into his shadow, only to miss as he lept away too fast. She tipped forward , and tumbled off the fence with a hissed "* _ fuck _ !*"

From below, she attempted to form a net of tendrils to catch herself.

"Whoa! Look out below!" As the tendrils twisted to life on the ground, Toad leapt to intercept, catching Morgan before they could fully form-- and well before she hit the ground.

Morgan landed heavily in his arms, a sharp gasp escaping her lips as the two of them collided midair. Her arms reflexively wrapped around his shoulders to hold on tight. The shadows below retreated, slithering back into their familiar old shapes as she started to relax.

"...well." she breathed, "that wasn't my finest moment."

"Mighta been mine, princess," Toad grinned, making no move to put her down.

Morgan clung to him,catching her breath as she tilted her head to look at him with an amused smirk.

"Mmm, I bet it is, leapfrog." She managed to pull one of her arms away to tuck a stray strand of her mussed hair over her ear. "You know, I'm *usually* a lot more graceful than that."

At this distance, his blotchy green freckles stood out more prominently on his sallow face, and his eyes were slightly luminous.

"Oh I know, took a peek at ya from the balcony at that cheer tryout," he admitted rather shamelessly. "You got the moves, yo. Was thinkin' about tryin' out myself, but I had a bad hair day." He winked.

"Oh, you were watching, hm?" She smirked at him, and dragged the goof out. "Too bad you didn't. I'd have  _ loved _ a man with your skills on the team. And I can't say it wouldn't be amusing to see you in the uniform, though we would have to do  _ something _ about the hair."

Her face had started to darken with a blush, her strange almost dusky purple skin deepening across her nose and cheeks and up the edges of her pointed ears. He was still holding her. "Thinking of putting me down? Or have you gotten used to carrying me about already?"

"Eh, I could carry you all day, but you prolly got places to be or some shit, and all that." Toad admitted, before he gently put her down, with a slightly nervous chuckle. "Oh, I donno if I introduced myself yet-- don't think Bobby yellin' down the hall counts. So hey, Todd Tolansky, at your service, miss vampire."

"Todd, hm?" She repeated, finding her footing and rising tall once more. She brushed her hair over her pointed ears again, and smiled as if the whole 'falling' thing never happened, looking down at him with half lidded eyes.

"Todd Tolansky. it's a pleasure," she said with a fang-filled smile "I'm Morgan Connelly, and currently the only thing I have to do is get home to be yelled at by my brother."

Todd tossed the can of spray paint in his bag and hefted it onto one shoulder, shoving his hands in his pocket. "Damn man, uh, no offense but your bro seems like a piece of work. Like a total gorilla." 

"You aren't wrong about that." she murmured with a soft huff of breath. 

He shook his head, and then it snapped up and he was grinning at her again. "You wanna ditch? Me and some pals are gonna hang out."

Glancing down at Todd she cocked her head with a growing trace of a genuine smile "...you're inviting me to hang out?"

"Sure am, Morg!I mean, I get it if you got other places to be an' all that." Some of the confidence drained out of his voice as he made excuses for her.

Morgan briefly glanced at the bus stop, her brow furrowed in thought, before her eyes snapped back to Todd , and the smile turned into a grin, the decision made. "Fuck it! Count me in, Toddy."

She winked "I'll help you guys paint the town red."

Todd blinked and straightened up. "Shit, for real? Hell yeah! Let's get goin then, yo!"


	9. Hanging with Bros

Todd led Morgan to the by-now mostly empty back parking lot of the school, where there was a small knot of people chatting idly and hanging around what looked like an old military vehicle.

"Hey hey, guys! hope we got room for one more, cause look who brought the new girl!"

Todd waved at the bunch, one of whom Morgan recognized as Dorian from her theater class.

Morgan grinned excitedly and waved "hey! Dorian, I didn't expect to see you here!"

One of the others, a tall girl in an old and faded leather jacket and a black eye patch over one eye looked Morgan over before glancing at Todd.

"Who's the new girl?" She asked, her voice even and just a hair above monotone.

Dorian waved to Morgan. "I didn't expect to see you either; and now I'm feeling a hair embarrassed for not inviting you myself. Callisto, dear, this is Morgan. She's in our theatre class. Morgan, meet Callisto."

"I remember you from theater too, actually." Morgan grinned, pointing at Callisto. "Though you seemed so bored out of your skull that I wouldn't be surprised you don't remember."

Callisto stared at her a moment before she snapped her fingers. "Ah, yeah. The dramatic one." She nodded approvingly "Cool. Welcome aboard."

The last, the tall and broad shouldered guy in the brown jean vest glanced up from where he was checking the oil and snickered. "Shit, Todd managed to get a cute girl to come hang out? Check the sky, are pigs flying?"

"Haven't seen any yet," Todd grinned, tugging at his shirt pridefully. "Must just be my winnin' personality finally paying off."

"Doubt it, Todd." The boy in the brown vest grinned.He flashed Morgan a thumbs up "I'm Lance. Todd's old friend."

Morgan brushed her hair over her ears, careful not to expose them...just in case. "Good to meet all of you. This should be _fun_."

Todd noticed Morgan hide her ear and elbowed her gently. "Hey, never mind that, Morg, you're among _friends_ if ya get my drift."

Dorian raised an eyebrow and looked Morgan over again. "Hmmm?”

Callisto glanced at her significantly, before closing her visible eye with a nod. "Yeah."

Morgan's eyes widened, and then she grinned widely again,brushing her hair away from her ear. "Well isn't that convenient. Good bunch of friends you have here, Toddy."

Lance gestured to the car. "Wanna hop in? We can chat about it on the way."

Todd opened the door for her. "Your chariot awaits, Vampirella."

"My chariot, hm?" She purred, slipping into the car. "Thanks, Leapfrog."

Callisto raised her eyebrow, but slipped into the driver's seat at the same moment Lance was attempting to, forcing him to take shotgun with a muttered "god DAMN it."

Dorian chuckled at the exhcange, climbing into the back seat behind Lance, and patting him on the shoulder. "Better luck next time."

Lance glanced over his shoulder. "I swear man, it's like she thinks it's her car."

And they were off, Callisto tearing down the streets of the New York suburb.

"So you're all..ah.." Morgan thought for a minute, "what was it Piotr said...Mutants too, huh?"

Lance nodded to Morgan. "Yeah, believe it or not, yeah. Even if most of us don't have anything as obvious as Todd and that tongue of his."

"Tongue?" Morgan raised her eyebrow.

Todd pouted performatively, crossing his arms. "Aw, man, Lance, you spoiled the surprise!"

Dorian snickered. "I * _hope_ * you weren't planning on * _too_ * much of a surprise. What a rude thing to suggest to a lady."

Todd flushed a bit green at the suggestion and snapped, "Ya got a dirty mind, pirate boy!"

Morgan felt her own cheeks flush as well, covering her mouth as she started laughing. "It'd be one hell of a surprise, I'll give him that."

Callisto peered back at them in the rearview mirror, her single visible grey eye locking on Todd in the backseat. "Protection." was all she said.

Todd made a noise a little like drowning, and sank half way into his seat. "Aw man I'm bein' ganged up on..." 

Dorian snorted with amusement and flashed Morgan a grin. "Since he seems too shy to tell you himself, I'll break the news that our friend Toad here has a tongue very reminiscent of his namesake."

"Well isn't that something." Morgan purred. "Bet it makes you real popular with the ladies, leapfrog."

"You'd think." Lance snickered

In the front seat, Callisto smirked. "In the interest of saving Todd from melting into a puddle, I will admit my mutation. I have enhanced senses. And a mind for tactics."

"That's it?" Morgan blinked in surprise at the lackluster confession.

"Eh. More or less." Callisto smiled enigmatically.

"Our dear callisto is a delightful mystery, as all women are, I'm told," Dorian explained. "I wouldn't really know about that. As for myself, I have the most *amazing* voice."

"Yeah amazingly destructive," Toad snorted, shooting a grateful glance to Callisto in the rearview mirror.

Callisto blinked at him. Maybe it was a wink. Hard to tell with the eyepatch.

"Yeah, the guy howls like a fucking banshee and brings the literal house down." Lance smirked.

"You're one to talk." Callisto countered. "Mr. Richter scale."

Morgan simply looked both fascinated and amused, her lips parted in a wide smile.

"Yeah between Dorian and Lance they could really bring down the house,” Todd nodded. "And I mean the _whole_ house."

"And we'd get an applause, too," Dorian purred. "At least, I'd say we _should_."

"Somehow I don't think the audience would give us a standing ovation," Lance snorted. "Unless it was with pitchforks and torches instead of flowers."

Callisto glanced at them, and then back at the road with a nod.

Morgan leaned on her hand, overwhelmed and pleased to be in such relaxed company. "Oh I wish I could see you in action. All of you!"

She put her hand on her chest, "my mutation is..."

"That you drink blood?" Callisto asked, glancing at her in the mirror.

"N-no." Morgan flushed, glancing off to the side. *As much as I've had the urge to...no. I manipulate shadows...with a bit of stepping through them as a method of teleportation."

"Ya got a wicked pair of fangs though," Todd pointed out. "Saw 'em myself!"

"Ah yes, the lovely smile I saw earlier," Dorian teased. 

Morgan’s smile recovered, and she brushed her finger over her lips thoughtfully. "Maybe I should give it a try sometime." she mused "if I can find the right...victim."

She caught Todd giving her a nervously interested glance as she spoke.

"Maybe you ought to.” Dorian replied, nodding. “Even so, teleportation is a tremendously useful gift,” 

"It is. I used to use it to get to class on time until Greg found out and had a fit."She chuckled , leaning on her hand with a fang-filled smile.

Lance froze in the passenger seat as he heard Morgan mention Greg. "...oh. Fuck."

"Problem, Lance?" Dorian asked with some confusion, cocking his head.

Todd sat up, snickering. "Sounds like he's met the 40-tonne-gorilla. Uh, no offense, Morg."

"The dude's my shop partner. He kept going on about his muscles." He glanced over his shoulder at Morgan. "And about how he had a rep for protecting his sis. He also * _really_ * doesn't like you, Toad."

“Yeah trust me, I noticed, bro,” Todd nodded, grimacing.

"Great. Just peachy.” Morgan grumbled, her expression a similar one of displeasure. “He's probably gonna try to chase off any friend I make who doesn't fit his preppy good girl ideal of me. _Again_."

Callisto looked almost thoughtful for a moment.

"Is this often a problem for you, Morgan?" Dorian asked. "Sounds a touch over protective to me."

"*Sounds* like he's gonna try to rip my arms off and beat me to death with 'em," Todd snorted.

"Trust me, it's more than a touch." Morgan agreed with frustration. "He sets out my damned clothes and has a fit if I wanna wear my *own* style. He chases off any friend I make who's not Greg-approved. He tells me not to do this, not to do that. He probably _will_ rip Todd's arms off and beat him to death with them if he had half the chance. It's a _big_ problem."

"Don't worry, Todd." Callisto said dryly "I'll stop him at at least one arm. We can probably replace it pretty easy."

"Yeah, well, as much as I like the sound of a sick robot arm, sounds like it'd be less hassle to replace the bro instead, yo," Todd snorted.

"He really lays out your clothes?" Dorian asked. "Isn't that a bit...."

"Creepy," Todd interjected. "The word you lookin for is creepy."

"Yeah it's not exactly 'normal sibling behavior.' " she muttered, crossing her arms. "I turned into B-movie's monster of the week, and even I think it's a little on the 'unsettling' side."

She dropped her head into her arms with a quiet groan "I know he's just trying to protect me, but it's not like all this shit's stopped anyone from attacking me."

Lance hissed through his teeth, glancing back at the backseat again. "People suck like that...but your brother's taken it to a fuckin level. the guy's gotta buzz off, from the sound of it."

"Yeeeeah," Todd nodded. "I mean the shit those dickwads were sayin' in the gym was yikes bullshit, but it was the coach your bro was about to break the teeth of."

"What's this about attacks, and dickwads?" Dorian raised an eyebrow.

Morgan tensed as the locker incident came up and shrugged her shoulders. 

"I ah. The school made a mistake and assigned me to the wrong gym class." She rubbed her neck, "and a lot of the people who were there started talking about me because of it. I got some from some of the other girls trying out for cheer squad too. But Todd's right...it wasn't the kids talking shit about me he was threatening...just the coach. He had the wrong target. I'm ...pretty sure it was just a clerical error because of...some stuff."

Morgan braced herself for a bad reaction from the others in the car as they put two and two together. 

But it never came.

"The cheer squad hopefuls too? Hm..." Callisto frowned slightly. She was thoughtful a moment before she said, "sorry, Morgan."

Lance punched his hand. "You need anyone's nose broken in, you can ask us. The rumor mill's no friend of ours."

"Indeed,” Dorian tapped his chin. “You wouldn't happen to have caught any of the *names* of these wretches, would you?"

Todd, meanwhile, pressed his luck, patting Morgan in a consoling way on the shoulder.It paid off, she didn't deck him in the face *or* call him a creep. Instead she gave him a thankful smile, brushing the hair out of her face with a nod. She was feeling welcome again, maybe more so than before.

"None of the guys at gym, but....Becky I think was the ringleader of the Abercrombie and Bitch gang who tried to start shit with me." She snarled, I nearly pummeled them with their own twiggy shadows."

"That's the spirit." Callisto smiled in the mirror.

"Yo, I woulda paid money to see that," Todd agreed.

"If that was Becky Vernon, and I *suspect* it was, she'll have had two lackies with her, a blond and a brunette, am I right?" Dorian asked.

"Becky Vernon huh?” Lance rolled his eyes. “I tried hitting on her once in fifth grade and she said 'wouldn't touch some low class punk' before insinuating I just wanted to steal her wallet and gettin' Gary Quill to try bashing my head in."

Todd snickered. "Joke was on her, I was the one that stole the wallet AND you broke Quill's nose."

"Yeah. You caused me a heap of trouble that day, Toad. But it was worth it.” Lance smirked at the memory.

"She *seems* the type to pull that sort of stunt." Morgan snorted. "that's right. There were three of 'em. Becky, blondie and the brunette."

Callisto had pulled down a sidestreet, towards a liquor store.

"Oh is that so?” Dorian tented his fingers. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have an _opportunity_ , and it's right in our neighborhood."

"Is it the liquor store?" Callisto asked dryly. "Because I hope you have your orders ready. We're almost there."

Morgan glanced at Dorian with a wide grin "...really? what kind of opportunity?"

Dorian tapped his nose with a sly look.

"*I* know where Becky and her girls are going to be right now. Callisto, dear, a detour if you would. Club Calamity."

Todd perked up. "Shit, we're goin to Calamity?"

"You always know where to find the worst company, Dorian." Callisto shook her head. She turned away from the liquor store and down another street.

"Oh * _hell_ * yeah." Lance grinned and leaned over to punch Dorian on the shoulder. "You rock, dude."

Dorian gave Lance a little bow, in his seat.

"What the hell's Calamity?" Morgan asked, cocking her head .

"Calamity's a dance club, yo,” Todd piped up. “But like, for kids!"

"The term is 'all ages club', Toad dear," Dorian corrected.

"For kids!" Todd insisted with a grin.

Morgan giggled into her hand.

"Oh you guys are * _funny_ *." She smirked and waved her hand. "Why don't we get down to this *kidz bop club* and scope it out."

"It really is cooler than Todd's makin it sound." Lance said, almost desperately

"It's a seedy dance club with a strictly BYOB policy." Callisto murmured "so it can market itself to teens.'

"Gotta get a percentage of those trust fund allowance dollars, am I right?" Todd snickered.

"They *do* host excellent live bands," Dorian shrugged "I'm rather hoping to play there sometime. And Callisto's right, it's very enjoyably seedy."

Morgan snickered softly, before nodding her head. 

"It sounds like fun, honestly." she paused. "You play, Dorian?"

Callisto pulled off to the side of the road, parking near a large building decorated in deep red neon reading * _CALAMITY_ *. It appeared to be an old, renovated cathedral, with it's stained glass replaced with murals of dancing, musical notes, and fire.

"A little," Dorian beamed, "I also sing."

Todd hopped out of the car, right over Morgan, and pulled the door open for her.

Morgan bowed her head with a sly smile "what a gentleman." She purred, and slipped out onto the street. "and I'd like to hear you sing sometime, Dorian."

Calamity shut the car off and locked it. "Careful what you wish for, Morgan."

"Trust me, if Todd's a gentleman, I'm the king of fucking France." Lance snorted.

Todd pouted at him. “Aw, c’mon…”

"Oh I'm *sure* a performance can be arranged," Dorian purred."Hold on a moment though, we should come up with a plan before we approach the bitch squad- don't you think?"

"I could formulate something, I suppose..." Callisto nodded, closing her eyes. 

But Morgan put her hand on Callisto's shoulder, and grinned 

"...No...no I have a *perfect* plan." She turned to the others "how would you like to give those airheaded harpies the *scare of a lifetime?*"


	10. Party Time

"Oh my  _ gawd _ can you *believe* they let anyone play here these days?" Becky leaned her back on the bar, watching the band on stage with performative boredom and annoyance.

"Things have really gone downhill." The brunette in the short skirt crossed her legs as she sipped the 'virgin cocktail' she'd slipped a little vodka into when the security guard wasn't looking. She huffed "They're probably resorted to , like, *below* the bottom of the barrel, Becky"

"Yeah these guys  _ suck _ ," the blond, Brittany, snorted. "What a drag right?"

"At least it looks like they're going back to the DJ," Becky sniffed. "Good cause I was half tempted to get out of here."

The music ended, and the noise in the club lowered to a dull murmur. It was a monday afternoon, not their prime hour.

"Awww...you were, Becky?” Lindsey, the brunette, pouted, sipping her drink “I mean, I'm just starting to get a buzz and we haven't even met anyone *fun* yet! I'm sure it'll liven up....they can't suck *all* night."

"I guess," Becky pouted. "Ugh I need more to drink."

Somewhere in the small crowd, the trio heard a voice. 

_ "*Oh my god, is that Crush Caller's van in the alley? Are they gonna play a set?"* _

Brittany perked up. "Did you hear that? Crush Caller is here? They're like, the  _ hottest _ ."

Lindsey was halfway through pouring more single shots of vodka into her drink when she perked up as well. 

"oh WOW!! We've gotta see if we can get an autograph! I've wanted one  _ forever _ !"

Becky straightened up. 

"Girls we can *not* pass up this opportunity. Alright follow me." She took a last swallow of her drink, and headed toward the emergency exit that Calamity always kept propped open because they didn't technically allow smoking inside any more.

"Oh my gawd, I wanna be the first to see them!"

Lindsey eagerly followed her, bouncing unsteadily on her heels for a moment as she first stood, before she got her stride and hurried a little faster than Becky. 

"No way, Lindsey, do *not* ruin this for me."

Becky pushed her slightly to get back in front. She shoved the door open and the three of them piled into the alleyway. None of them noticed the door jam suddenly vanished, plucked out of view by something like a long rope or tendril.

The door clicked shut behind them, as the dark alleyway loomed.

"Like...Becky." Lindsey pouted "I don't see any van back here..."

"Ugh!!! What did I just step in? Like, my heel is stuck!" Brittany squeaked from behind them.. 

"What the hell?" Becky frowned as she noticed her shoes were stuck too. “Oh my god what is this gross shit? These heels are new.”

Lindsey went to turn around, only to stumble over into Becky with a yelp as her foot ALSO became stuck.

At the mouth of the alley a loud crunch sounded through the alley as two dumpsters blocked the alleyway off from the street, a single pale blue light gleaming from the darkness before vanishing in a blink.

"I...I dunno!" Lindsey squealed while hanging on Becky's arm.

A low pitched hum seemed to cut through the alley too, and bricks started exploding behind the three girls.

"Was that a gunshot?" Brittany shrieked as Becky looked around frantically.

There was a soft "hng" of a voice...before the ground began shaking under their feet...adding to the exploding bricks in terms of sheer chaos...and before the three girls...the shadows began to dance.

They twisted and rose into hellish, demonic shapes. Teeth and claws and reaching fingers that crawled through the alleyway towards them.

Up on the next door's fire escape, hidden in the shadows, a group of silhouettes were enjoying themselves immensely. One of the silhouettes, despite how hard she was concentrating, couldn't help but grin in wicked delight as the girls started to scream.

The three girls screamed as they were assaulted by strange and terrifying occurrences from all sides.

"The alley's haunted!!" Brittany shrieked.

Unfortunately, another, deeper voice joined them from the mouth of the alley, from just beyond the dumpsters.

"Hey, what's going on back there?"

The gangly shadow shaded his eyes and squinted past the blockage.

"Oh, oh shit yo. Its the *cops*."

"W-w-what??" The taller, broader shadow hissed. "Aw FUCK"

The tremors grew worse...and worse...bricks began caving down from Calamity's ancient architecture, cracking as a fissure crackled through the earth below.

Morgan, her eyes wide, stumbled back, only for her to lose control of the shadows and send several of the tendrils smacking into the girls like high-tension wires, knocking Lindsey over with a crack of her ankle and a sharp cry. Brittany and Becky were likewise knocked like a couple of dolls, hitting the wall and tumbling into a heap on the ground as bits of brick continued to rain down.

"AHHH! Oh...oh gawd I thought I was just drunk!.Is this...is this..."

The blue glow of an eye came from the alley again as a shape bathed in the dark shadow came running up the fire escape, scrambling towards the mischiefmakers. 

"The cops are trying to bust through the barricade," Callisto said plainly "we don't have a lot of time."

The hum stopped, and dorian grimaced. "I'd recommend we make a *quick* exit."

"Yeah no shit!" Todd hissed.

"Oh my god, I think we killed them." Morgan whispered in horror.

"what was that?" Callisto asked, pulling a trio of throwing knives from under her coat. "Did you say kill them?"

"Killed them?" Todd yelped. "Shit, yo, I can't go away for murder!! Aw fuck this is a nightmare, yo we gotta get out of here."

Dorian looked over at the three girls, who were stirring, and he set his jaw. 

"No murder. They're fine. Come on, before the barricade breaks." He started hurrying down the fire escape, his boots rattling it as cops shouted, and the dumpsters shook,

Morgan hissed softly, as she grabbed the closest people to her--Todd and Callisto--and in a puff of swirling shadow, teleported them down to the furthest shadows of the alleyway, waiting for the others 

"Fuck. fuck...we may have to bust through that fence, it's a dead end..." She muttered, looking up at the only exit to the alley that wasn't swarming with cops...which was blocked by a 8 foot tall barbed wire fence.

Lance grit his teeth. “I'm not goin' away. We're getting out of here."

Callisto blinked, looking up at the fire escape and then at the fence with an impressed 'hmm.'. She pointed to the fence. "Dorian. Blast a hole in the fence for us."

"Cover your ears," he said, and gave them all an instant to comply before he * _ shrieked _ *. The sound pierced the air, but was surprisingly directed, despite its volume. Morgan could swear she could see the air vibrate for an instant as the redhead's voice punched a huge hole straight through the fence.

"Holy fuck". Morgan slapped her hands over her ears at the last instant.

Once the hole was punched, Lance sent one last *massive* tremor down the alleyway with a loud grunt and a stomp of his foot to slow the pursuing cops. "Remind me not to tease that voice of yours for like, another week or so, Dorian."

Callisto slipped out into the alley as the group of them booked it out into the street, Morgan cursing quietly under her breath as she ran from the scene of chaos behind her.

As they passed out into the sunny street , the red and blue lights of cop cars flashed to their left, reflecting off a single black limousine that was parked by the pawn shop nearby. Callisto, glancing at it for only a moment, turned and ran towards their parking space a little bit away.

Todd still had a hold of Morgan, and had grabbed Lace's wrist as well as soon as he was done with the makeshift earthquake, pulling both of them back toward the car.

"Are they following us?" Todd asked, not wanting to look back.

"Not yet," Dorian said breathlessly, peeking over his shoulder. "Thanks to dear Lance."

Lance went to jump across the hood and into the driver's seat, only for Callisto to leap over the door and land carefully behind the wheel first.

"God DAMN it, even in a *chase* she gets the drop on me!" Lance cursed as he once again got into the passenger seat.

Morgan opted not to leap into the seat, but instead grabbed Todd and Dorian, and teleported them into the pooled shadows on the floor of the truck, pushing them into the seats and slipping between them 

"* _ Gun it _ *," she said breathlessly "before they see us."

Callisto nodded, and turned the truck on, pulling away swiftly, but as unobtrusively as she could.

Todd jammed himself against Morgan, a panicked look on his face. 

"Oh man, oh man the pigs are gonna follow us, I *know* it, yo. "

"Calm  _ down _ , Toad," Dorian hissed, "do *try* to keep a level head about you." Despite the bravado, he was a little pale himself.

However, it became increasingly obvious as Callisto pulled into traffic, that  _ they were getting away scot free _ . There weren’t any cop cars anywhere near them, nor did they hear the sound of sirens.

Lance looked tense, glancing over his shoulder every now and again as Callisto calmly took a left turn to get further from the club.

"Don't worry. Nobody saw our faces. And nobody's following the car," she whispered.

Morgan looked as pale as a ghost--even more pale than she did before, her eyes wide as she sunk into her seat, against both Dorian and Todd.

"For serious?" Todd asked, scooting up enough to look around, but not enough to disentangle himself from Morgan's side completely. "....Holy shit. We're good. We're actually fucking out."

Morgan, however, dropped her head into her hands as the adrenaline rush wore off, and she started to realize that she’d probably made a complete mess of the situation, and a fool of herself for creating it.

"...I've really done it now." she murmured softly "I make a few friends and then I almost get us all fucking arrested."

Lance barely heard her, taking a deep breath. “...we escaped.. we did it...that...that was..."

"That was fucking  _ sicknasty _ yo!" Todd declared in delight; he put his feet up on the back of the front seat.

"Hilarious.” Dorian nodded. “An all time great."

Lance grinned, and punched the dashboard with a loud laugh as he recovered. "MAN, that  _ was  _ great! did you see their f _ aces _ ?"

"I did." Callisto was smiling in the rearview. "...I also saw them crumple when those bricks hit them. They looked terrified."

Morgan was still a moment, before she looked up in surprise. 

"You guys aren't mad at me?"

"You have to be joking," Dorian snorted.

"Mad at ya? why would we be  _ mad _ at ya?” Todd asked in astonishment. “That was fun as shit, yo! right guys? Aw man, I can't believe we got away with it, yo!"

Morgan's face slowly lit up into a full on smile, her eyes sparkling as she bared her fangs in a loud and excited laugh. 

"I thought you'd be FURIOUS for almost getting you caught!" she laughed, hugging herself with a grin. "But fuck, you’re right, we actually *DID IT*. They'll be having nightmares about us for years!!!"

Callisto nodded "it was exciting. I had fun."

Lance grinned, and kicked his own feet up on the dash, pushing Toad's out of the way with his hand as he leaned his head back. 

"Of course we got away with it." he said. "We weren't stupid. We held it together just fine. Nobody messes with us and gets away with it, right?"

Todd made a 'tch' noise as his feet were pushed away, and crossed them instead. "Hell yeah! yo you hear blondie? * _ alley's haunted, eeek! _ *"

"Perhaps the visit will make her rethink her choices-- if any of them have the brainpower for it," Dorian drawled with a smug look on his face.

"Alley's haunted." Morgan snickered. She brushed her hair out of her face with a broad smile before nodding. "I doubt they * _ do _ * but maybe the knocks on the head did them some good."

She kicked back, leaning with her arms spread out against the headrests of the back seat.

"If the knock on the head didn't do it, the broken ankle might.” Lance smirked “Did you hear it? Lindsey the Lush went *down*."

"Almost a shame the drunk are more likely to survive an injury," Dorian remarked cattily.

"Man their whole *crew* went down! Good luck with them crutches, bitches," Todd snickered.

"They sure as hell won't be making cheer team anymore." Morgan said with a wicked smirk "If I didn't already have the captain position in the bag I sure do now"

Callisto nodded in the mirror. "I liked the part where she thought there were gunshots."

"I'd wager she's never heard the real thing," Dorian mused, his arms crossed. "Oh no, a loud noise."

"Spooky." Callisto smirked "I don't think she'd like a real gunshot." 

Todd grinned, and looked at Morgan. 

"Hey, hey, so like, you're gonna be hangin with us from now on, right, Morg?"

Callisto glanced at Morgan in the mirror "I hope you do. You fit in just fine."

Morgan grinned wider, patting both Dorian and Todd on the shoulders. 

"You're *damn right* I am. You guys are *stuck with me*"

"Well shit, this calls for a damned celebration!" Todd grinned, *definitely* leaning a bit into Morgan's touch.

"I quite agree," Dorian nodded firmly. "Maybe a little late in the evening to start following Lindsey's example, but I wouldn't say no to a milkshake or something."

"The diner it is." Callisto said "I'm buying." She took a turn past an old drugstore, and towards the center of the city.

Morgan leaned back in the seat. "A celebration to new friends and one *hell* of a victory."


	11. Aftermath

Greg was sitting listlessly in the living room with his phone in his hand, the digits '9-1' on the screen. he kept going to push the last button and hesitating. A thousand worsening scenarios had played in his mind as he waited for his sister to return.

"God damn it, Morgan, where *are* you?" he growled. "If you're hurt...."

He jolted up at the sound of a car in the driveway, and bolted out of the house.

An old military jeep had pulled into his driveway, parking with a slight lurch. Behind the wheel was a young woman in an eyepatch and leather jacket, who leaned over to say something to the other party in the car--Morgan , who was grinning from ear to ear as she whispered something back. Wide enough to show her fangs, and her hair, even as she quickly tried to brush it, had parted around her ears.

As the door slammed open, she looked up with a sharp gasp, and hopped out of the car. "H-hey Greg."

Greg's feeling of worry quickly started to shift into one of anger, and his expression matched it.. 

"Well I'm glad to see you're not dead!" he rasped. "Where the hell have you been? Who's she?" 

The girl with the eyepatch leaned on the door, looking at him with a cool expression, her grey eye half lidded. "I'm a friend of hers."

"My phone died while I was out, Greg. Sorry to worry you." Morgan grimaced and she crossed her arms. "I just went out with some new friends...this is Callisto."

"Callisto, right," he grunted, glaring at the eyepatch girl for only a moment before he returned his attention to his sister. "You know the last text you sent me said you'd be right home? Where the hell have you been?"

"I said i'd *meet* you at home. Not that I'd *be* right home! And I didn't expect to be invited out, that's all! Stop getting so upset! you *wanted* me to make friends, didn't you??"

Callisto glanced at him with a slight frown "Hey, look. Lay off the girl, man."

Greg turned Callisto, and pointed at her. 

"How about you stay out of what isn't your business?" he snapped.

Morgan stomped her foot. 

"Don't you fucking snap at her, Greg! and stop *yelling*!! We were just hanging out, we got fucking *Milkshakes* for fuck's sake."

Callisto leaned on the jeep door "Became my business the moment she became friends with the guys and I."

"*The guys* huh? and what guys would those be?" Greg grimaced, and snarled, glaring at both of them. Leave it to Morgan to get in with the punks and then do something irresponbsible like this. He doubted that her phone had actually died.

Morgan's eyes hardened 

"Greg," she warned, "don't do this."

Callisto met his eyes with an impassive expression "What's it matter to you? They're her friends, not yours."

"It matters because I'm her brother!" he snapped. He felt like he was taking crazy pills; did no one get why he was upset? "Morgan's already getting shit at school, I don't want her to get any more, got it?"

"Greg, stop it! She's my friend, okay? The whole lot of them have treated me  _ just fine _ ! Let me * _ have this _ *."

Callisto leaned halfway over the door of the jeep. "Listen. Greg. I know you're a little overprotective, but I am going to ask you nicely to drop the tone with me."

"Overprotective, right," he rasped, glaring up at Morgan. Just one day. He’d just wanted to go one day without everything at school getting fucked up. And she was already going who knows where, and badmouthing him to everyone for giving a shit. "Just what the hell have you been saying about me?"

"Just that every time I make friends, you pull shit like this Greg," Morgan muttered.

Callisto leaned on her arm with the barest trace of a grin, and it wasn’t a friendly one, to Greg’s eye. "Don't you have clothes you need to lay out? Do you really have time to waste out here yelling at me?"

"That;s it! this is over,” Greg snarled. “Get in the house, Morgan we're gonna have a fucking talk!"

Callisto leaned back in the seat of the jeep, and gave Morgan a glance.

"Hey, just know that if things get rough you can come stay with me for a bit." she offered "I don't have much, just a tent, but it's open if things get bad here."

Morgan smiled at her thankfully, before glancing at Greg. "....Thanks Callisto. But I should probably let my brother get this out of his system."

"Understood." She gave Morgan a little salute. "Don't put up with his shit if you don't have to."

Greg looked back and forth between Morgan and Callisto as the conversation went on without him. His brain ground to a halt at the sheer audacity. "Hold the fuck on, you live in a *Tent*?"

"....yeah. Why?" Callisto glanced over at him.

Morgan bit her lip, leaning on the jeep as she glanced at Callisto. It was obvious that she wanted to be anywhere other than here. Probably she’d rather be sleeping in this girl’s tent. Greg felt himself getting more and more worked up as she stayed silent. He tried to force it down.

Greg seethed there for a moment, as the anger bubbled up inside him, until he finally threw his hands up. 

"Whatever!! Come on, Morgan." He snatched at her wrist roughly to try to drag her inside.

Morgan stumbled, dragged a foot before she tried to yank her hand away with a grimace as he squeezed her wrist. 

"Ow! Greg, *stop that*"

Greg was taken completely off guard when the quiet girl in the jeep remained still only a moment before she leaped over the door, and landed deftly on her feet. Not missing a beat, she ran forward and grabbed Greg roughly by the shoulder.

"You're hurting her." Her single eye narrowed on him.

Greg jolted as he was grabbed and let go of Morgan, turning on Callisto and snarling.

"You do NOT wanna touch me right now!" A fine shimmer of dark mist was rising from his body, thick enough that even he could see it. He grabbed for her collar. "So get your hands off and get back in your car."

Callisto met his eyes with a casual frown, seemingly unperturbed.

"No. I think you should treat your sister with a little more respect." She glanced at the mist, as a pale blue light began to shine in her eyes. "I would let go of me if I were you."

Morgan stumbled a bit away from the two, glancing nervously at the conflict.

Greg sucked in a breath and let go of Callisto suddenly, shoving her hard against the car; but she stepped gracefully back into the jeep, rolling enough with the movement that she only suffered a glancing blow.

The blue glow in her eye intensified as she suddenly grabbed Greg's arm and with strength that was surprising even for her muscular form she yanked him up at the same time she opened the jeep's door and kicked it, sending the heavy metal panel slamming into his sternum as she yanked him towards it. Greg's strength and aestheticism saved him from serious injury, but not from pain, and he hissed in a breath as the shock went through him.

"I warned you," she said quietly, in a monotone. "You aren't the only mutant in town."

"Starting to wish I was!"

With a growl he leapt back at her, throwing a punch as his fist was engulfed in darkness. 

Callisto watched the punch come, dodging at the last minute. His shadowy fist passed her face, rustling the hair hanging over her eyepatch as she grabbed his arm, and yanked him forward to drive her elbow into his gut. She was * _ fast _ *...and * _ very strong _ *. Greg was suddenly aware that he was even more outmatched than he had been at the club earlier that day.

He choked as the elbow met his powerful abs, and he reeled, trying to grab and grapple her with his shadow-smoking hands.The girl's eye was blazing that strange pale blue as she danced away from his fists. 

"You really should quit." she murmured.

"Greg!" Morgan yelled from the sidelines. "*Stop* trying to hurt my * _ FRIEND _ *"

Of course Morgan was on her side. Why had there been any doubt? 

Greg growled and made one last attempt to kick Callisto's legs out from under her but Callisto ducked down, grabbing his foot and lifting it to send him sprawling onto his back. She leapt, catlike on top of him and pinned him to the ground, her free hand pulling a short dagger from under her jacket.

She pointed it at his chest, her single eye hard. 

".....stop. This fight is pointless. You've lost. Just don't go hurting your sister again. That's not how a sibling is supposed to act."

Greg's pale eyes were blazing darkly, as he seethed his chest rising and falling with every hissed breath. He let himself go limp, and looked away, scowling. Beaten.

Morgan hissed softly through her teeth, running her hand through her hair "....fuck. This is a mess," she murmured.

Callisto stood, sheathing her knife under her jacket and offering him a hand up "Good."

Greg looked at her hand, and didn't take it, rolling to his feet on his own. He glared at her one last time, and then sulkily stomped toward the house.

000

Morgan felt a heaviness in her chest as she watched her brother stalk away into the house after the fight. Callisto also watched him go for a moment before she shook her head, and gave Morgan a wave goodbye. 

"Sorry about that, Morgan." She gave her a ghost of a smile "...I'll see you at school."

Morgan smiled awkwardly and painedly back, nodding at her.

"See you then, Callisto..." She gave her a salute, before running after Greg inside, not sure what kind of a state he’d be in.

Greg was standing with his back to her, gazing dully and distantly at the stairs to the second floor. She could see the darkness shimmering and coming off him in waves.

Morgan nervously stepped forward, the shadows in the hall twitching in response to her unspoken anxiety as one reached up to close the door behind her.

She came near, and hesitantly patted her brother's shoulder.

"Hey, Greg?"

He flinched as she touched him, and didn't look at her.

".... are you trying to punish me, Morgan?"

Morgan tensed, the shadows all twisting to pool at her feet as her fingers tensed on his shoulder.

"What are you talking about, Greg? you attacked her first...you're the one who pushed her.."

"That's not what I mean." He had his head down, chin almost in his chest.

"then what do you mean, Greg?" Morgan asked, perhaps a little colder than she meant to. Her hand dropped off his shoulder. "I didn't make waves for you at school, I behaved *just fine*. "The only one who started trouble was you, and that was with my friend when she was just giving me a ride home."

"A ride home you apparently spent badmouthing me the whole time," he snapped. "Forget it. I'm going to bed."

Morgan crossed her arms.

"Tch! All I did was tell the truth, Greg. About how ever since our mutations you've been trying to treat me like someone I'm not. Throw me in a preppy dress, only let me talk to people you approve of-- it's * _ stifling _ * Greg!" She turned away from him, and stared at the wall. "If you want to go mope in your room all night,  _ fine _ . Be like that. But it won't change anything."

"No, it won't. But I guess I can't change your mind about anything anyway." His voice was dull, and beaten. He paused, and then told her, "We have an invitation for tomorrow night."

Morgan's lip quirked in irritation, but the shadows finally unraveled and slithered back into their familiar shapes 

"....is that so." She looked away and said, "Maybe I already have plans."

You'll want to meet-- you know what? maybe I'm wrong. You probably don't even care."

Morgan turned to look at him again briefly, before turning and, glaring towards the door. 

"You're right, Greg. I don't care." she sneered with a sharp barb of sarcasm. "Because  _ obviously _ the only thing I care about is making your life hard, right? To  _ punish _ you and ruin your chances to be like the--the 'normal humans'."

She heard his voice more clearly as he finally turned to look at her, despite her own averted gaze.. "You think that's what I want, Morgan? I care about fitting in because you showed me what happens when people think you're different."

Morgan's frown deepened. "That's right, Greg. I *know* what happens when people think you're different. And you know what? All the pink miniskirts and 'right friends' in the world won't change how people treat me."

"Are you sure about that, Morgan? Nobody thinks Clark Kent's Superman, you know," he said. He shook his head. "Look, take it or leave it, but I met some people at school who said there's somebody who can help us. A place where we can just be ourselves."

Morgan finally turned to meet his eyes. 

"..." She looked downcast and said, "I was going to tell you the same thing."

"...What, seriously?” She heard the confusion in his voice. “Oh... cool, I guess..."

"yeah, Piotr...he told some girls who tried bullying me about...being trans...to leave me alone. And I guess he noticed the shadows, because he took me aside and told me I wasn't alone at school. Invited me to see some Institute." She crossed her arms "...I was excited to tell you, but then you went and punched Callisto."

Greg grimaced, and looked away. 

"Look, I'm sorry about that... I let my temper get away with me again."

Morgan frowned. 

"You did. ...Greg. You *always* let your temper get away from you. Callisto's not a bad person...none of my new friends are...and the best part is..." She smiled thinly. "They're all mutants, Like us. All of them."

"Are they from the institute?" Greg asked, some of the color draining from his face. "Shit, and I made a complete ass of myself.... again."

"Oh, no. I don't think so anyway." Morgan rubbed the back of her neck. "Or rather, I think Dorian *was* but he's been avoiding it lately because of a bad breakup. Callisto, Lance and Todd aren't part of it, I don't think.."

Greg closed his eyes. 

"Lance and Todd? Great. Great." He hissed a breath and then took a deep one. "The little creep didn't put his hands on you, did he?"

"Todd's a perfect gentleman." Morgan flipped her hair over her shoulder, flushing a little at the suggestion. "Don't go trying to insult him when you haven't even met him. We spent all afternoon together and he's *fun*. He caught me when I fell, you know. Saved me from getting hurt with his *superhuman leap*"

"Great." Greg pinched the bridge of his nose. "Wait... what were you doing that made you fall?"

Morgan shrugged her shoulders. "You know. this and that.'

"God damn it, Morgan. Sounds like I was right worrying you were hurt!"

She took a step back, defensively, worrying the fight was going to start all over again.

"I just fell off a fence," she muttered "I was trying to get a good look at something."

Greg flinched when he saw her step back away from him.

"Alright fine! I don’t want to have another argument, geez," he grumped. "I just worry about you! you're my sister. And you're kind of all I've got."

"And you're my brother." Morgan asserted. "...We have each other, Greg...but it's not like I tried to get hurt...and Todd caught me before I even got a bruise."

"Well, at least he's good for *something* I guess." Greg snorted with displeasure. "Look... that girl who drove you home, what was her name? Callista?"

"Callisto." Morgan corrected, crossing her arms.

"Callisto," he nodded. "Do you have her number?"

Morgan raised her eyebrow. "...Yes? Why? I got everyone's numbers."

He made a face and looked away.

"Could you text her and tell her I apologize for starting shit with her?"

Morgan nodded, and pulled out her phone with a half smile. Thank goodness he was being at least a LITTLE reasonable.

"...thanks, Greg." She typed a little message before hitting send. "Maybe you could tell her at school, too."

"Yeah, I'll try...." He sighed heavily and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Good." Morgan said , leaning on the wall. "Feeling a little less ...you know...sulky now?"

"I mean, I still feel like shit," he admitted, "But I guess..."

She walked past him to the stairs, punching his shoulder as she passed. 

"Come on, let's just call it a day, alright?"

He smiled slightly and punched her back. 

"Yeah. Heh. Another big day tomorrow."

"That's right. And you'd better make a friend or two." She stuck out her tongue. "You have to keep up with me, after all."

"Oh trust me, I know."


	12. Looking Ahead

Callisto had dropped Lance and Todd off together, a block or two from where they each lived. Strange cars in the driveway wouldn't be welcome--probably at either of their places.

As they walked, Todd had a goofy grin on his face. Lance walked beside him, his hands jammed in his pockets as he whistled a little tune. 

"That sure went well, didn't it? I mean, we got one over on Bitchy Becky and her lackies...caused some damage. Ditched the cops."

"Yeah, man that was sick, yo! that was like some vigilante justice and that shit," Todd agreed excitedly.

"Sure fuckin was. We're practically heroes." He looked up at the sky "Morgan didn't have a half bad plan, neither. Sure, it went kinda tits up at the end, but..."

"I mean, who woulda seen the cops comin' yo?" Todd shook his head. "Man! Morgan's the whole fuckin' package, huh? brains *and* beauty." 

Lance glanced at Todd out of the corner of his eye and saw him as he smiled dreamily. 

"Oh hell no, man. I know that face. "

Todd flushed, his freckles standing out a brighter shade. 

"Man, nah, what face, yo?"

"That big dumb smile you get when you've got a big dumb crush." Lance snorted. "The one that makes you look like a dweeb."

Todd stuck his tongue out at him-- about 8 inches of it. "Yeah, well, maybe I *do* got a crush! I mean, she's worth it, yo. Did you *see* her? You got eyes, right?"

Lance dodged backwards to avoid any possibility of being touched by Todd's tongue. 

"I got eyes alright. And my eyes are tellin' me she's way out of your league, man."

Todd rubbed the back of his neck, and looked at the sky, still smiling. 

"Yeah, I mean, I ain't *that* dumb, she's a 10 and I'm like, a negetive 32 or somethin. But like-- I touched her butt in the hallway and she didn't even hit me!"

Lance raised his eyebrows. "I mean , If I were her I woulda hit ya."

"Yeah no shit, that's why I don't go grabbin your butt, bro," he snorted. "I mean, like, for other reasons too, but that one's on the list yo! --and-and anyway I like, caught her when she fell off the fence we were taggin, and she waited *ages* to tell me to put her down. Well, felt like ages, anyway, ya know?"

"Uh huh." Lance stuck his hands in his vest pockets again. "I dunno man, I wouldn't get your hopes up."

He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and tapped one out, offering Todd the pack. 

"Even if she was, by some fucking wild ass stretch of the imagination, remotely into you. Like, if pigs started flying and Satan himself appeared and said he was gonna be living on the straight and narrow, you'd still have to deal with her psychopath of a brother breaking your twiggy legs in two when he finds out.'

Todd took a cigarette out of the pack, looking pensive. Lance put it away and flicked his lighter, lighting his cigarette before he handed the lighter to his buddy

"I mean, when ya right, ya right, but like..... it might be worth it."

"Might be.. who knows. Maybe she's into stringy dorks, you lucky guy." He smirked "go for it, but don't say I didn't warn you."

Todd lit up and grinned broadly. "Oh you warned me, yo, no doubt about that. But yolo and that shit, right? This Toad's gonna put the moves on the hot vampire."

"Yeah, you really go and rock her world, buddy." Lance snickered. He punched his shoulder as he took a drag. "maybe she'll kiss you and you'll turn into a prince."

"Hey ya never know," Todd grinned."I've seen chicks on twitter horny for Killer Croc from Batman and shit. I can't strike out every time, yo."

"Let it never be said that you aren't one persistent little bastard, Toad." Lance shook his head.

"That's me, yo! Be a pal for me and collect my teeth when Morgan or her 1000 pound gorilla knocks me out."

"You got it." Lance snorted. "You want 'em in a necklace or a bracelet?"

000

Principal Darkholme's office was cast in low light, the shades drawn and casting ominous shadows upon the desk of Principal Darkholme. 

There was a soft knock on the door. "Ma'am?"

The principal was sitting, straight backed and poised in her chair, her hands folded before her as she narrowed her eyes towards the door. "Come in."

A very small woman with short black hair, and a slightly dusky complexion walked into the office with an arm full of file folders. 

"I have the files you wanted me to pull, ma'am."

"Ah, yes. Thank you Maryanne." She tapped her claw-like fingernail on her desk , instructing her to place it down. "Your work is very much appreciated."

"Happy to help, Ms. Darkholme," she nodded, bobbing her head low and setting down the stack of folders. "Though, I'm not *sure* all these kids are cheerleading material."

Ms. Darkholme spread the files out on the table. Five students stood before her, represented by the printed backgrounds and records of grades, achievements and disciplinary action. The top file bore the name 'Todd Tolansky' on the edge of it, and the one below it, Morgan Connelly. Lance Alvers and Mukuro Isono were also visible.

A sharp smile crossed the principal's face…

"Don't judge a book by it's cover, Maryanne. I'm certain each and every one of these children have hidden potential. Potential we can  _ certainly _ use in the coming season."

"I'll bow to your wisdom on that, ma'am," the secretary said, smiling back. "Is there anything else I can take care of for you?"

Principal Darkholme shook her head once, pushing her glasses up so that the glare shielded her eyes. 

"No. That should be all for today. Tomorrow is a new day, Maryanne." She tented her fingers, smiling thinly. "And we have *much* work to do."

END EPISODE ONE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you to those of you who have stuck around for the whole first episode! We really hope that you’re enjoying the story, and especially enjoying the new faces along with the familiar. :) It's very nostalgic to be writing X-Men fic again, I don’t even want to think about how long it's been...
> 
> Episode 2: In the Blood will be starting to go up immediately in the next couple of days. We will be posting all episodes (at least of season one X_x) in the same fic so that they are easy for readers to keep track of.
> 
> Art associated with episode one is linked below:  
> https://rookerystudios.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/03/meeting-page-scaled.jpg
> 
> https://rookerystudios.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/03/todd-and-morgan-tv-aspect.png
> 
> Comments, kudos, faves and follows are all appreciated. <3
> 
> Next Time, on X-Men: Re-Evolution: Morgan and Greg go on their tour of the Xavier institute, but they aren’t the only ones there to see the mansion. Some guests are invited, and some are not! Intruder alert!!


	13. s01e02: In the Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Episode 2: In the Blood: Despite Morgan feeling mysteriously ill, she and Greg go on their tour of the Xavier institute, but they aren’t the only ones there to see the mansion. Some guests are invited, and some are not! Intruder alert!!

Morgan awoke from a deep slumber feeling stiff and groggy. The previous day had been... eventful, to say the least, but she hadn't expected to feel  _ this  _ wiped out from it. She didn't get up right away, instead opting to cover her eyes with the back of her arm as she grumbled her displeasure to the empty room.

Briefly, she contemplated skipping school and sleeping in, but she'd made a promise to Darcy to check out the listings for cheer yesterday--plus, there were the guys. She  _ really _ hoped to run into them again to talk about yesterday some more.

With a soft groan, she flopped over to her side and slowly slid out of bed. 

"Maybe the calamity at Calamity took more out of me than I thought," she murmured softly. It certainly seemed like it might have. She felt a deep, kind of bone weariness, and she was oddly hungry, despite being slightly sick to her stomach. 

There were no clothes laid out in her room today. If Greg was planning to pull something like that again, at least he hadn't done it while she was sleeping.

‘ _ He probably won't’ _ , she thought to herself as she drifted over to her dresser and began tossing clothes on the bed. ‘ _ The cat's out of the bag, after all. If I'm lucky he won't mention anything about my goth clothes for a few weeks or so. _ ’

Moving around, unfortunately, made everything worse. That queasy, unpleasant stomach sickness, the ache in her limbs and the exhaustion that pounded behind her eyes all flared uncomfortably as she tried to start her day

"Fuck...I feel like ass."

She heard the sound of the shower hissing from the other room. Seemed like Greg was busy with his own business this morning, for the moment anyway. And unlike yesterday, he was probably going to expect breakfast waiting for hi.

Morgan pressed her hand to her head with a low groan, vowing to have an extra cup of coffee today to try and help her shake this exhaustion. She dressed as quickly as she could in a black skirt draped in more silvery chains, striped black and red leggings and matching armsocks, a black and body hugging t-shirt with a pair of bloody fangs in a crimson smile, and a short red leather jacket. 

She grinned at herself in the mirror, touching up her makeup the same as yesterday, before she draped the inverted cross around her neck. 

She might  _ feel _ like ass, but that didn’t mean she had to  _ look _ like it.

While she was dressing there was a beep on her phone, which was laying on her dresser.

She took another moment to comb her hair, tucking it over her ears with a smile. She made sure it was fully free of tangles before she finally scooped up the phone and took a peek at the notification.

There was a text message from a very recent addition to her contact list. Todd. 

****Had a great time last night. See you in school?****

A smile crossed her face as she scanned the message.

"I think I've caught *someone's* eye." She walked out the door as she typed.

****It was a real blast ;). We should meet up****

Morgan nearly thumped into her brother as he was coming out of the bathroom, towel around his waist. 

"Oh! Uh... sorry," Greg mumbled, stepping back a pace.

Morgan yelped, fumbling with her phone as she came to a sudden stop, only for the jerking movement to send her head spinning again. She pressed her hand to her head , and flashed her brother a tense smile. 

“...Hey. G'morning, Greg."

"Whoa, you okay?" He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder to steady her, looking at her with concern. 

"Just a little dizzy. I think I slept kind of badly last night, but I'm fine." She straightened up under his hand, and gestured towards the kitchen, shoving her phone into her pocket before he could see it and start wondering who she was talking to. "I'm gonna go cook us some breakfast, alright?"

He gently took his hand off her, and rubbed his jaw, nodding. 

"Thanks. I'll be down as soon as I'm dressed, alright?"

Morgan nodded, before carefully making her way down the stairs. 

"Take your time. What do you want, eggs again? Bacon?"

"Oh man I'd love some bacon," he called after her. "I'm kinda starving."

"Yeah, me too," she agreed. "Maybe a bit of protein this morning will do us some good."

Slipping into the kitchen, Morgan got to work. Flicking the oven on, she got the eggs and uncooked bacon from the fridge, and started up the coffee pot for herself. It was the sort of routine that was familiar to her. Ever since she was a kid. Mom was hardly home, and it had eventually fallen on her to make sure the two of them were fed and ready for the start of the day.

Greg could cook, a bit..a little...but Morgan had developed a quiet love for it as she got older, taking it upon herself to prepare breakfast and dinner most nights when they were younger. 

As the pan heated and the coffee brewed, she checked her phone again. 

It seemed that she had- there was another text that she hadn't heard beep. Thank goodness Greg hadn't heard it either.

"Guess i must have made a good impression on him." she mused

****You name it, I'll be there**** It was followed by a little frog emoji.

"He's really committed to the aesthetic too. Kinda cute." Morgan snickered. 

She tossed a few strips of bacon into the pan, and let them sizzle before texting back. 

****How about lunch? I'd say before class, but I have to check the results of the cheer tryouts with Darcy.****

She thought a moment before she sent a follow up.

****looking forward to it, Leapfrog**** She sent him a little bat emoji in return.

The reply was almost instantaneous.  ****Yo hell yeah. See ya there, vampirella.****

Morgan heard Greg's heavy footsteps coming down the stairs. 

"Smells good, Morgan."

Morgan once more shoved her phone into her pocket and quickly cracked some eggs into the pan to cook with the bacon. 

"Doesn't it?"

In truth, thinking of eating just made her feel sick to her stomach, not to mention the smell of the bacon. But today was a big day..so she was determined to push through. 

"Figured we could use a little meat this morning."

"Yeah definitely," he nodded. He paused, and smiled at her a little wanly. "Hey, thanks for making breakfast.... sorry... again."

"You're welcome, you know I never mind a little cooking." Morgan brushed her hair over her shoulder "...and it's...fine. I appreciate the apology. I'm sorry I didn't text you sooner, but my phone died and things got busy."

"Just, tell me you plugged it in last night, then," he said, getting down some plates for them and setting the table. It was obvious that he was trying his hardest not to be argumentative this morning.

"Yeah. It's all charged up, Greg." Morgan said, flipping the bacon and watching it sizzle. "...Greg. Can I ask you to do something?"

Morgan could hear the beat of hesitation before he answered. 

"...Yeah. Of course. What's up?"

"...I got the sense you don't think highly of most of my new friends." She said, starting to shuffle bacon and eggs onto his plate. "But please don't give them a hard time for hanging out with me. I've made other friends too, Darcy...another girl who tried out for cheer squad...but the guys have been real nice to me so far. I don't want you chasing them off, okay?"

Greg took a breath, as if gathering himself and sighed it out in a long puff. 

"Morgan.... I'm not trying to get in the way of you hanging out with friends. Just... just be careful, alright? And... I'm glad you made some other friends too."

"I know how to be careful, Greg." She passed him a plate laden with eggs and bacon, before dishing herself a much smaller plate...but with a bit more bacon than egg. 

"But they're not as bad as you think." She got out the juice and milk...and Greg's protein powder, before she set them all down and took a seat opposite him. By way of changing the topic slightly, she continued, "Darcy's pretty fun, though. I'm hoping we both make the squad."

"When will you hear the results?" he asked, staring at his milk as he stirred the powder into it. The spoon made a noise like a bell in the glass that arced right through Morgan’s headache.

Morgan leaned heavily on the table, pouring herself a glass of orange juice with a shrug. 

"This morning. Darcy suggesting bringing my veils just in case." She paused, and ran her hand through her hair. "...Greg...Can you get me some coffee? I forgot to pour myself a cup."

"Oh... sure," Greg nodded, and pursed his lips, looking her over as he stood. "Are you sure you're okay? You're looking kind of under the weather."

"I'm just tired, Greg." she muttered, grabbing her juice and taking a long sip "Tryouts were rough, and then that big dumb fight took the rest out of me."

He sighed and put her coffee next to her on the table.

"Yeah I'm not feeling so hot either to be honest. Let's just try to get through the day. We've uh, got that thing tonight. Ororo texted me to confirm." He paused. "She's the student council president."

Morgan grabbed her coffee with perhaps a bit too much excitement, lucky she didn't knock it over as she took a long sip. 

"Yeah, I remember...the uh...tour of the Institute, right? " She leaned on her hand. "Student Council president's one of us, huh? A mutant. I wouldn't have guessed."

"Yeah," he nodded, sitting back down to finish his breakfast. "She seems pretty passionate."

"Maybe I'll get to meet her on the grand tour." She grinned a little painfully, still leaning on the table "Piotr was alright too. Real big, quiet guy. Turns his skin into metal."

That got Greg's attention. 

"He does *what* now?"

"His skin turns into these metal plates." Morgan gestured to her arm. "Like it was some kinda suit of armor."

"Damn, now *that* is built. Not gonna lie I'm kinda jealous." Her brother whistled. 

Morgan snorted, sipping her coffee with something approaching amusement. 

"Yeah, I thought you'd say that."

"Hey just cause you're not into it...." He snorted, his nose wrinkling. But then he shook his head. "Anyway, Ororo like, can make it snow inside. I think she might control the weather or something. It was... kinda wow."

Morgan raised her eyebrows. 

"...She can control the weather, like,  _ inside _ ?...Huh, now I'm kinda jealous. that sounds intense." She brushed her hair over her ear with a broad smile. "Did I mention that the guys are mutants too? like, Dorian's got this killer voice that can shatter brick and Todd's supposedly got this amazing tongue and like, a 10 foot vertical leap."

Greg made a noise as Morgan laid the description on him, somewhere between a snort and a choke. 

"Uh-huh...."

Morgan nodded as she nibbled a piece of bacon, totally missing his discomfort. 

"it's cooler than it sounds in action." She tapped her finger on the table "Lance can cause earthquakes...and Callisto apparently has some kind of 'super tactics' or something. I think there's more to it but she's real tight lipped about it."

"I.... really don't know what to say to any of that, Morgan," he drawled. "Dorian.... is he a redhead?"

"Yeah, he's in my theater class," Morgan nodded."The one who dresses like a pirate."

"Yeahhh," Greg groaned, his lips pursing. "I ran into him yesterday, actually." He didn't sound pleased about it.

Morgan finally looked up from her breakfast with a downturn of her lips 

"...What? you don't like him or something?"

"I don't want to badmouth your new friend, Morgan, but he was harassing a girl over some breakup I guess. He got really in her face," he said, shaking his head. It was clear from his tone he was really trying to avoid coming across as pissed about it.

"You mean that preppy girl, Kitty right? They used to live in the same dor...." She paused "....hm.  _ hmmm _ ."

Greg raised an eyebrow. 

" _ Hmm _ what?" 

Morgan chewed her lip. 

"They used to live in the same dorm, I'm just wondering if it was *that* dorm. You know. The one we're touring tonight."

"Oh. ....oh.  _ Ohhhh _ ." Greg frowned as understanding dawned and he looked at his plate. "Well then."

"Yeah. Anyway. He's just upset about his breakup." Morgan shook her head. "Like, he shouldn't harass her, ya know? But he probably didn't mean anything by it beyond being kind of a drama queen."

Greg snorted again. 

"Yeah, he seemed like a drama queen. Just be careful with him, you know? He seemed like the kind of guy to uh.... you know.... start shit."

Morgan made a face but smothered any possible snarky reply with a sip of coffee.

Greg seemed to fumble for something to say. 

"Kitty invited me to MMA club,” he declared finally.

"MMA, huh?" Morgan looked up at him. "Wouldn't have expected it from seeing her. But I bet you're real excited. It seems like your kind of thing."

He nodded, picking up his plate, and offering to take hers as well. 

"Yeah. Kinda got my ass kicked in the first sesh, but...."

"Well it's been a while since we did karate." Morgan handed him her half finished plate, a small smirk of amusement on her face at the thought of Greg getting taken to task. "And these kids have probably been training for a while now."

"Yeah, exactly..." He looked at her plate as he picked it up. "You sure you're finished?"

“Yeah. I'll be honest, it's not sitting well with me." She stood from the table, slowly, so she didn’t have another dizzy spell. "I'll just grab something at lunch after i shake it off."

"Take care of yourself, okay, sis?" he urged, giving her a little smile. He scraped the rest of her plate into the trash. 

"You too, bro." She said, grabbing her bag. "Try not to get creamed in MMA again." she teased with a smirk "...meet you at the car."


	14. Working it Out

To say Greg was  _ pleased _ when he ran into Callisto in the gym during free hour wasn't exactly right, but he *had* promised to apologize and he intended to follow through on that. He gave her an awkward wave as he approached.

Callisto was by one of the punching bags, laying into it with heavy punches that nearly took it off it's chain, and kicks that threatened to punch a hole in the thick fabric. She was  _ fast _ and hit  _ hard _ . facts which he had already gotten a firsthand lesson in last night.

She glanced up, the faint trace of a blue glow in her eye as she noticed him, and waved back at him. 

"Hey." She pat her chest as she paused in her workout. "Ribs okay? I was worried I hurt you."

Greg prickled, as his pride rose to take the comment as an insult, but he fought it down taking a breath. 

"Don't worry about it."

"Cool." She nodded and leaned against the punching bag's pole, looking him over for a moment, before gently closing her visible eye. "So what's up?"

He shook his head, and looked away, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I just...." ‘ _ Why is this so hard for you? Just swallow your pride and apologize’,  _ he urged himself. He took another breath. "I wanted to apologize. About last night."

Callisto smiled slightly, and nodded her head. 

"Thanks." She crossed her arms. "Sorry too. I could have backed off, but your sister seemed unhappy."

"Yeah." Greg sighed heavily, his posture stiff through the uncomfortable conversation.. "We're... okay now. We talked."

Callisto opened her eye again to glance at him. 

"That's good." She glanced off to the side. "...Look, I know what it's like to have a sister you care about."

"you do huh?"

"Yeah." Callisto nodded firmly, but didn't offer any more explanation.

"...right. Well, uh, thanks," he mumbled, not sure why that thread of conversation had died. "Anyway, like I said. Sorry for starting shit."

"No problem. Sorry for letting it go so far." She paused a moment before she added. "Maybe we can fight again some time, in a different kind of context."

"Yeah... I'd be up for it," he nodded. "Didn't see you at the MMA club..."

Callisto shook her head. 

"I train independently. The club seems fine enough, but I'd rather not risk hurting some human." She tapped her temple and her eye glowed the faintest trace of blue. "Just in case."

"Ah, right." Despite the little reminder of the blow to his ego he agreed, "Probably a good idea."

"But I noticed you're not quite human yourself. Like your sister and those shadows of hers." Callisto gave him a sidelong glance as she turned back to the punching bag.

Greg grimaced and looked around to check if anyone was listening-- thankfully there was no one nearby. 

"Keep it down," he murmured. "But it's true..."

Callisto started punching the bag again. 

"I can tell. When you get angry, you smoke." She punched it harder, and the chains groaned in protest "...there are some of us who can't hide it as well as you or I, you know."

"If you're noticing it I don't think I'm hiding it very well," he grumbled,feeling himself start to flush. This was not the conversation he wanted to be having at all. This girl really knew how to go for his soft bits. He wondered if she was doing it on purpose. .

"Maybe not," she agreed with a half laugh. "...You may want to work on your control some."

"Yeah, I'm... working on it," he admitted, some of his irritation leaking into his tone.

"I can help. I've had years of experience practicing fine control. If you ever want advice." She punched the bag again, and her fist tore right through the fabric, blowing a hole in it as the sand poured to the ground, her eye a vivid blue. 

"What do you mean though? About others?" Greg and his pride ignored the offer, instead he thought of Ororo, who seemed to hide things just fine. He grimaced at the busted training bag.

"...I mean the Morlocks. They live in the sewers under town." She shook her fist out, looking at the ruined punching bag. "They're like us, but their mutations are often more severe. Physical mutations or dangerous gifts."

"That's something that can happen?" Greg felt his stomach churn at the very thought. He was starting to realize he didn’t know much about what was happening to him and his sister at all.

"Yeah." Callisto nodded, looking back at him. "Morgan, Todd and yourself may be slightly odd shades...and my eye may glow, but there're people down there who've changed so completely. Grown scales from head to foot, have wings on their backs...can melt through solid matter with a touch of their hand. All sorts of people."

"Fucking hell," Greg breathed, feeling his jaw tighten. What if something like that happened to him? Or to Morgan? "That's.... not great."

Callisto shrugged her shoulders. 

"What isn't great is the way people treat them. Forcing them to live down there in the dark. I'm up here...so I can maybe do something to help. Bring food to the table, so to speak."

. "Jesus....." He grimaced, feeling uncomfortable and exposed. He paused. "Look... we probably shouldn't be talking about this in here..."

Callisto shrugged. 

"Nobody's here. But I understand, it'd be awkward if someone walked in. Truce? Now that we've both said sorry?"

She offered her hand to him and he took it, albeit a little awkwardly, but without real hesitation. Callisto, despite their differences seemed… okay…. For the most partl.

"Yeah... truce. I'm not looking to make enemies or anything."

"Good. Because it looks like your sister and I are going to be hanging out." She briefly looked almost amused. "At least if Todd has anything to say."

"Ugh, are you serious?" Greg scoffed before he could stop himself.

Callisto cocked her head, looking at him blandly. 

"Yeah."

Greg made a low, frustrated noise. 

"Am I the only one who thinks he's a creep?"

"I wasn't aware you've met him." Callisto said. "He's kind of a goblin, but he's our goblin."

Greg shook his head. 

"That's.... great. Heh... alright. So. I'm gonna like, do some reps before I kill the whole period complaining, yeah?"

"enjoy." Callisto said, saluting him before turning to grab a faded old military jacket off the ground 

"See you around, Gregory."

"It's actually just Greg," he offered lamely, giving her a wave. "But yeah, see you around."

"Oh." She nodded "Well, you can call me Mukuro."

She waved once more as she walked out, coat slung over her shoulder


	15. One In A Million

Todd was waiting outside the lunchroom for Morgan, checking his phone, in case she'd texted him. The phone was an older model from a couple of years prior, and not even a major brand.

No messages.

"Aw man, Toad, she's totally gonna ditch you, yo," he mumbled to himself, slouching a little more down against the doorframe as other students came in past him, a few of them giving him dirty looks.

One broad, brown haired boy in a letterman jacket shoved him as he passed, a grin on his face 

"Hey, frogface, quit stinking up the doorway huh? Some of us are trying to have an appetite."

Todd shrunk back, but sneered at him. 

"Hey its a free country, yo!" he snapped back. He dropped his voice to mumble, "meathead."

The jock turned, and grabbed Todd by the scruff of his shirt, slamming him into the doorjam with a snarl. 

"What was that, you little pest?" 

"Hey!" Came a sharp and recently familiar voice. "Put him down, jackass."

The voice short-circuited Todd's fight or flight instinct for a moment, as he looked over to find the source of it. The most dangerous of all emotions welled in him. Hope. 

"Morgan?"

His hope bore surprising fruit-- as he did indeed see Morgan standing there, her hand on her hip and a scowl on her face as she glared up at the jock. 

"Seriously. Put him down." 

The jock glared at her for a moment. His fingers tightened on Todd's shirt before he let go and dropped him. 

"yes * _ sir _ *" he sneered at Morgan. "Whatever you say * _ sir _ *" 

Morgan's jaw set, and her eyes narrowed on the jock. For a moment, she looked like she might actually rush the guy, something Todd was a bit tempted to do as well, but instead she grabbed Todd's hand and stormed into the lunchroom.

He was practically dragged into the lunchroom, a little too flabbergasted by the situation to any more than stumble along with her until they were a ways away. Finally his brain slammed back into gear. 

"H-hey! hol' up yo! He can't talk that way to you!"

Morgan turned, looking down at Todd with a tired smile. 

"...no, he can't. But he's not worth the fight." Todd couldn’t help but notice how exhausted and pale she looked.

"I could kick his teeth in for ya!" he blustered, with more bravado than sense. It was probably  _ true _ honestly, but the question was what would happen  _ after _ that.

Morgan squeezed his wrist gently. 

"Why don't we plan to give him the * _ special treatment _ * some other time. Just like with you know who yesterday....and we can enjoy our lunch. Sorry I ran a little late."

"You got it, dollface, he better consider himself on notice, yo. And like, no worry about it, it's chill." He smoothed his hair back, trying to give the impression that he * _ hadn't _ * been nervous she wouldn't show up.

She finally let go of his arm, and despite the stare that some people were giving them, she leaned a little closer to him to his surprise. 

"I'm a little surprised you waited for me." she purred.

"Eh I figured you were just busy or somethin'," he lied, waving a hand nonchalantly. Though he tried to play it cool, the awkward chuckle probably gave away his nerves. He leaned in a little closer to her.

She grinned a little wider, briefly flashing her fangs. 

"I just had to make a quick... deteor." Morgan’s slight pause, and her tired frown seemed to indicate there might be more behind that detour, but Todd didn’t get a chance to ask. She leaned in a little closer...and poked his nose. "Let's buy a soda or something and chat, huh?"

Todd blinked, and grinned, delighted at the gesture, and the rare physical contact. From a girl, no less.

"Yo, anything you say, babe. I know a few places we could slip off a little quieter than the lunch room too if ya want."

"Why don't you lead the way, leapfrog." She straightened up with an amused smirk. "You're the expert here. I'm just the new kid."

He straightened up a bit in response too, and offered her his arm. Like a gentleman.

"You got it, doll!"

Morgan glanced at his arm with a soft 'hmmm'...before she took it with a wink. 

"Well aren't you welcoming."

Todd had felt his resolve waver in her moment of hesitation, but his grin renewed all the brighter when she actually took his arm. 

"Hey *some* of us around here know how to treat a lady, yo."

He led her through the lunch room toward the vending machines in the far hall, near the disused senior lockers. He wasn't sure if he was pleased or annoyed by the fact that they were getting noticed by a few people, but either way it made something tighten in his stomach.

Morgan hugged his arm, putting her card in the machine. 

"want something, Leapfrog?" she asked with a half smile "I'll buy." 

Todd noticed as she glanced over her shoulder, her cheeks darkening as she also likely realized just how many eyes were on them. He was glad that they'd gotten at least a little past the watchful eyes of their peers, and could have a little privacy.

"Yo, I won't say no if ya sure," he agreed. "But I got ya next time. I'll have what you're havin."

She bought them each a cola, and handed him the bottle with a wink. "how about we find that privacy, huh?"

"Follow me, babe, the Toad knows all the secrets around here, yo." 

He grinned, leading her a little ways down the senior hall, and into a disused alcove, where there was a set of back-stairs. Alongside the concrete stairway was a dim space, half-hidden by a large shelf, that seemed to have at one point been used for storage.

Morgan followed him, twisting the cap off her soda as she went. 

000

Morgan frowned briefly as she played with the cap of her soda. She still wasn't feeling all that up to eating, not with the queasy feeling in her stomach. Maybe the carbonation would help her feel a little better. She glanced into the alcove, cocking her head. 

"Huh, you weren't lying, leapfrog. You  _ do _ know all the nooks and crannies."

"Toldja, yo," he nodded, pleased, and hopped up to sit on top of a disused desk that was sitting in the little area. There were a couple of these, and a couple of chairs besides. "I'm a handy guy to have around."

Morgan slipped into one of the chairs nearby and took a sip of her soda. 

"I'm starting to notice that, Todd." She leaned against the back of the chair with a smirk.  _ Let’s see if I can get a rise out of him.. _ . "Even if you're a little **handsy** too."

Todd, who had just taken a sip of his soda, made a slightly choked noise and laughed awkwardly. 

"Guess they have a life of their own sometimes, yo."

Morgan pulled one of the spare desks over for her to lean on. 

"Is that so? Part of your mutation or just a personal quirk? the sentient wandering hands I mean."

Todd's brain seemed to be warring violently over smooth quips versus the general awkwardness of actually having a girl talk to him who wasn't looking for another guy to literally throw him in an actual trash can. She watched his face journey from embarrassed, to hopeful, and back again.

"I mean, uh, who can say, really, yo. Mystery of life."

She snickered into her soda. Despite his awkwardness, she was enjoying herself. 

‘ _ He's kind of cute _ ’, she mused to herself. _ ‘In that dorky 'thinks he's funny' kind of way. Guess he's got me laughing, at least.’  _

"May be worth some study sometime," she purred, glancing at him through lidded eyes.

"Well uh, normally I ain't much of a studyin' guy but I'd make an exception for you, vampirella." He fidgeted awkwardly on the desk, the backs of his heels bumping the legs of it repeatedly as he grinned. "S-so, hey uh, last night huh? That was a blast, yo."

"Literally, in some ways.I can't believe we pulled it off," she said with a growing grin. She brushed her hand through her hai.r "Those bastards got what was coming to them, if you ask me. Maybe now they'll think twice before bullying someone for being different."

"Yeah maybe we knocked some fuckin sense into 'em yo! Oh oh oh! did ya see it was on the news? Like, they didn't mention  _ us _ obviously or nothin' yo."

"I *didn't*" Morgan leaned towards him with a grin. "We got a late start, so we kind of rushed out this morning. It was on the *news*?? what'd they say?"

Morgan could see a creeping flush blooming on Todd’s face as she leaned in closer to him. 

"Yo they was all like 'three girls rushed to the hospital after night club incident' and somethin about how they thought it was like, uh, structural damage or somethin'. Oh an; they totally got busted for bein' drunk."

"Structural damage.Certainly after Dorian and Lance were done with it, at least." Her leg swayed, her spiked heel scuffing the ground as she smiled.  _ ‘I didn't want to hurt them, just scare them a little. but it sounds like they're more or less okay. And they **were** horrible’.  _ "Busted for being drunk too, huh? "I  _ bet _ they sounded wasted with all their whining about 'haunted alleys' and 'ghosts'."

"Yeah, right, yo? Bet they figured they were looney tunes, like pink elephants and shit." Todd snickered. "Oh, hey hey hey, you get on the cheer team yo?"

In fact, Morgan hadn't been able to check yet, because there'd been a delay in the list being posted. It was supposed to be up by the end of the day from what she'd heard.

"I'm not quite sure yet." Morgan mused "I went to check the list and there's some delay, I guess. They said it'll be up later. I  _ hope _ I got on, though."

"Yo got my fingers crossed for ya!" he grinned, demonstrating the gesture with his large hands. "But like, an' don't take this the wrong way, but I’m kinda surprised ya into cheerleadin' with your style an' all."

Morgan crossed her legs, leaning back in her chair. She felt like Todd had had more to say, but whatever the comment was, he had bitten it back.

"Surprised a goth's trying out for cheer squad? What can I say. I'm a complicated girl." She considered leaving it at that for a moment, but continued. "I was on the cheer team before I got the courage to start dressing this way...I'd joined partially because I wanted a sport to keep me in shape and partially as a bit of a 'fuck you' to people who didn't want me there. And somewhere along the line I realized I actually enjoyed it."

She brushed her hair over her ear with a smile, hoping she didn’t seem too awkward.

"Hey, yo, that's great, ya know?" Todd nodded. "Just a shame ya gotta deal with some of the other cheerleaders, yo."

"A damned shame. The ones back home..hm...some of them weren't great. But I bore the trial with grace." She winked at him. “I'm hoping both Darcy and I get on the team here, because then there'll be at least  _ two _ cool cheerleaders around."

"Darcy Lewis huh? Yeah she's alright. Calls me a 'goblin rogue' sometimes but like, whatever, yo."

"I see her point." Morgan said with a teasing grin, baring her fangs at him in amusement. "We vibe pretty well so far though. She seems cool, and  _ definitely _ way better company than the Wicked Bitches of GC High."

"Yeah, yeah she's just afraid of my sneak attack damage, yo. And you ain't wrong about that. Good luck with that shit both of ya."

"Sneak attack damage, hm? I'll have to up my passive perception then." She gave him a lazy salute and turned the conversation away from the dangerous levels of nerdom that it had entered. "Thanks, hopefully we both get a spot. ...Maybe you can come watch us sometime. You know, out on the field. And we can hang out after practice."

She sipped her soda thoughtfully, and looked at his reaction over the top of the bottle as he sat up at attention with surprise. 

"Shit, yo, for real? I am all about that!" He grinned broadly. "Hey, we could hang after school today too if ya wanted."

Morgan rubbed her neck, frustrated that she had to disappoint him for the day.

"Oof, sorry Toddy. No can do tonight. I've got a *prior engagement*. We got an invitation to tour that Institute nearby and Greg's accepted for us for tonight."

"Aw, that's too bad, but I guess--" he paused. "Wait, the Xavier Institute or whatever, yo?"

"Yeah, ingot an invite yesterday from Piotr" she leaned back in her chair, skirt riding a little up her thigh. "My brother got one from the student council president, too."

He folded his arms, looking a bit thoughtful, though she noticed his eyes wandering to her legs. "Damn, they invited me a while back but I was kinda like, nah...."

"They did, huh?" Morgan perked up, fixing her skirt after a moment. "Too bad, it sounded kinda neat. Would be nice to have a place to like..be ourselves."

Todd scratched his chin for a moment, biting his lip. He seemed to be considering something.

"Yeah, I like, never liked the vibe they were puttin down, yo, but if you're gonna check it out, might be worth a look."

Morgan's eyes lit up as a somewhat mischievous thought occurred to her.

"Maybe we can take the tour together! It'll be better than it just being me and Greg, that way."

"Yo you think? I would be wicked into that, yo." Todd brightened up as well. 

"It means you get to spend time with me." Morgan pointed her soda at him with a sly smile. "Which I've noticed you're pretty keen on doing."

She watched him light up with a flush at the suggestion and he coughed. 

"Well, I mean, who wouldn't yo? New girl in town needs someone to show her the ropes, right? I'm a charitable kinda guy."

"Uh huh" she said, crossing her arms "you're a real altruistic guy, Toddy"

"That's me, yo. I'm like, a hero, didn't you know?" he grinned hopefully at her.

"A hero, huh?" Her smirk of amusement turned into a more genuine little smile. "Yeah, I'll buy that after you saved my neck yesterday."

"Hope you don't forget it, doll!" He topped to his feet on the desk, and then down to the floor, straightening up out of a crouch. "But uh, I better go find Bobby or Miss Prez or somebody if I wanna get in on your tour later, yo."

"Don't worry. I won't forget." Morgan offered her hand to him. "Help a girl up?"

"With pleasure, yo!" Todd took her hand, helping her to stand, with a doofy little flourish with his free arm.

Morgan stood with an easy grace, her cool fingers on his as she rose to her feet and winked.

"Thanks, leapfrog." She let go, and poked his shoulder "be seeing you."

000

As Morgan left, Todd watched her go for a long moment, before he headed out himself.

_ ‘She's prolly just teasing me hardcore, but like, maybe maybe maybe.... maybe I got a shot here. One in a million…’ _


	16. A Solemn Institution

The rest of the day wore on slowly for Morgan. Classes at Giles Corey High were larger and louder than in Red Oak, but otherwise much the same tedium. Finally, at the end of the day she was free to meet up with Darcy at the bulletin board to check the cheer results.

Shouldering her bag, Morgan approached the board with a mix of excitement and trepidation.

Her lips tightened as she leaned in to read the printout nestled among other mundane announcements. There weren’t too many other students craning their necks at the moment, it seemed she was either one of the first or last to get there.

"We better get in. I forgot my veils."

As Morgan's eyes scanned the list they found her name right at the top, with a star next to it. She found her new friend's name a little down the list, and just in time for the voice to pipe up behind her, "Are we in?"

"Holy shit." Morgan grinned, hiding her mouth with her hand as she turned to face Darcy. "We're in!! And I made Captain!!"

Darcy's mouth dropped open. "Holy shit! New girl makes good!! Congrats, Spooky!"

Morgan's face darkened in a blush, and she punched Darcy's shoulder. 

"Thanks , Darcy. Congrats to you ,too. You did *great*"

Darcy punched her shoulder back, her expression of surprise turning into one of delight. 

"Not as good as you, but I'll take it! Squee!"

Morgan clapped her hands together with an excited squeal of her own. 

"You know what this means, right??"

"I need to amazon a ritual knife asap?"

Morgan snickered softly. It seemed Darcy wasn’t about to let up on the witches goof. 

"Yep. And maybe a bucket of fake blood, you know. For ambiance."

"I love that we're going vegan for this coven, very earth conscious."

"What can I say," Morgan drawled. "You just can't find many good sacrificial lambs nowadays. I blame the ozone layer."

"What a shame. It's like they all got sacrificed or something.” She pushed up her glasses, smirking. “--but seriously. Stoked to be on the team with you."

Morgan laughed, brushing her hair out of her face.

"You know...me too." She grinned. "I think the two of us are gonna knock their socks off, Darcy. The rest of the team and the whole damn school."

"Heck yeah we are. I'm sure you can whip the rest of this team into shape. you *do* have a whip, right?"

"I might have one tucked away for just such an occasion."

"Knew I could count on you, cap," Darcy nodded. "So, we're celebrating right? Milkshakes? Ooo, bet you haven't been to the orange julius here, yet."

“You're damned right we're celebrating." Morgan nodded. She paused a moment before she asked, "...what's an orange julius?"

Darcy’s mouth dropped open in surprise for the second time in the last few minutes.

"Oh no, this is absolute *emergency*," Darcy declared. "That's it, get your stuff. We're heading out to fix this."

Morgan felt a surge of hype; *incredibly* into the idea. 

"It's a plan, to cel...e.." With a low groan, she facepalmed as she remembered that it wasn’t going to work. Not if she wanted to appease her brother-- and keep her plan with Todd, "Damn it, sorry Darcy. Think we can get a rain check and maybe celebrate tomorrow? I've got some tour I have to do after school today. Something for my brother."

"Well, it doesn't sound like fun plans, so I'm not offended," Darcy promised with wry humor. "Not ideal, but I can roll with it. We'll do lunch. Or well, probably closer to dinner, technically.

"It's a plan." Morgan gave her a fist bump. "Pencil it in: Celebratory After school Orange julius and ritual sacrifice with the squad"

Darcy pulled out her phone and tapped a message. "Consider it penciled Like, seriously, I put it in my calendar!"

Morgan pointed at her as she headed towards the door. 

"And don't forget the ritual knife. It's gonna be *majorly* important for the first practice session." 

"...oh my god, we need a knife?" An almost ghostly pale girl with hip length silky blond hair gasped from nearby. "I don't think I *have* one!" The girl rushed off, in a bit of a hurry..presumably to take steps to fix that.

Darcy watched her go. "Well. That's gonna either be a meme or a murder. Stay tuned next week to find out which one."

Morgan made a 'box' with her fingers, as if it were a tv screen 

"Be sure to tune into our after-episode discussion hour, GCHS Or Bust , only on Fox."

"Ew, Fox."

"What other station would air this trash?" Morgan snickered.

Darcy appeared to think about it, "Eh, probably the CW. --so when's your tour thing? Should I let you head to the jungle cruise?"

"It's pretty much right after school, so I'm gonna have to head out." Morgan fussed with her hair. "Looking forward to tomorrow, though. See you later, Darcy!"

000

"Aha! You thought you could escape from me, eh, Callisto?" Dorian demanded with a wide grin, as he threw himself at her from practically halfway across the parking lot.

Callisto turned, twisting her body to catch him with one hand, and pull him into a scoop. 

"Why Dorian. I didn't think you cared." She said in a quiet monotone.

He threw an arm around her shoulders. "Frankly, my dear, I * _ do _ * give a damn."

Callisto looked down at him, nodding firmly. 

"My heart melts. Or something. I didn't think I was your type."

"The heart wants what the heart wants, Callisto, dear." He chuckled and gave her a teasing wink. "I * _ was _ * hoping you might have a gaping, irishman-shaped hole in your afternoon."

Callisto gently set him down, shaking her head. 

"Sorry. Hole's already filled. I have something I have to take care of." 

She pointed down towards a nearby manhole in the street. 

"You know how it is."

Dorian followed her gaze. 

"Ahh, yes, a pity but I quite understand. Duty calls."

"Duty calls." She clapped him on the back "Maybe tomorrow, huh?"

"You have but to ask," he promised and clapped her in return. "In the meantime I'll find some other way to waste away my long evening."

Callisto gave him a salute, heading towards the cluster of shops opposite the school. 

"Godspeed, soldier."

000

Greg pulled into view of the sprawling gated estate, glancing from it to his GPS.

"Well, I'm  _ pretty  _ sure that this is the right place."

Morgan, who had been strangely both quiet * _ and _ * in a good mood the whole way, leaned out the window to get a better look as they approached the front gate of the mansion "Hot  _ damn _ it's big."

"Right? It's like a college campus," Greg boggled. "I wasn't expecting * _ this _ *."

Before them loomed Charles Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters. WIth it's high windows and columned entrance, it was more like a duel-winged manor house than a school, and the perfectly landscaped lawn, with it's sparkling blue pond and meticulous topiary didn't do much to dissuade that initial impression. And behind it, despite the school hiding most of it from view, they could see the grounds stretch on and on towards the woods behind. 

Morgan whistled. 

"...neither was I...this is nuts, Greg..."

"Hot damn. Hell of a first impression, huh?" Greg murmured as he pulled up to the gate.

Morgan nodded, leaning back into her seat. 

"It's kind of intimidating, honestly."

"I would have dressed up if I'd known. Kinda like it though."

Actually, Greg  _ had _ dressed up. For Greg, anyway. He was in a leather jacket instead of his letterman, and had a nicer pair of jeans on than usual. Morgan had kept the same outfit from school, though she freshened up her makeup in the rearview mirror before they pulled out of the parking lot. 

But now she was wishing she'd done something a bit more...dramatic.

Greg took a deep breath as he turned the car off. He looked up at the grounds again, and at the tall gate that separated them from them. 

"Big gate they have there."

"Yeahhh. Wonder what they're trying to keep out, eh?" she joked; or at least half joked. "...Why don't we go ring the bell?"

He nodded, and hopped out of the car, adjusting his jacket self consciously. He waited for Morgan to follow him, and strode up to the gate, his own thoughts echoing his sister's question.

Morgan followed him, her hands folded behind her as she glanced up at the iron fence. "Think they had second thoughts about letting us in?"

"More like I think there's an intercom," he said. He looked for one to push.

By the edge of the gate there was a top of the line intercom with a call button and a little screen.

"Maybe...maybe.' Morgan glanced over her shoulder, looking briefly hopeful before she glanced back. "Wanna hit the button?"

"I'll chance it, yeah," he said dryly. He pressed the button. "Uh.... hello?"

There was a brief moment before the screen flickered on. On the other end was a smiling woman of indeterminate age, perhaps in her 20's. Blond hair cascaded over her shoulders, and around her soft featured face. She had on dramatic makeup, with bright blue eyeshadow and liner done up like an 80's glam queen , inlaid with sparkling glitter that made her eyes really 'pop'. They could see her from the shoulders up, and could make out that she was wearing a white leather jacket with a large yellow diamond 'starburst' shape on her breast. 

"Hey there! Looks like the Professor was right about some new arrivals! Greg and Morgan, right?"

"That's us," Greg nodded, staring at the image of the woman with bemusement She seemed vaguely familiar, despite her rather astonishing outfit. "This is, uh, the institute, right?"

"That's right," the woman chirped, winking at him over the camera. "I'll get the gate open and meet you out front. I'm your tour guide for today!"

She snapped her fingers, and up twirled a few sparkling and pulsing rainbow-colored lights, which swirled in the air before vanishing. 

"Hold tight, alright?"

"Yeah, sure, we'll sit tight. Uh, thanks, ma'am." Greg nodded dumbly. 

The line clicked off-- and immediately the gate slowly began to open in towards the school. 

Morgan whistled. 

"Pretty lady, wasn't she? Loved that makeup. She looked like she stepped right out of a 80's glam cover or something"

"Yeah like, right out of a music video and everything," he agreed, trying to place where he’d seen her before. ‘ _ Kind of clashes with the decor around here _ ’, he thought, but wouldn't say it aloud just in case the intercom was still active.

"Actually," Morgan mused, "she kinda looked a little familiar..." 

As the gates opened, the same woman came hurrying out the front door of the school, dressed in a white and blue trimmed leather jacket with rhinestones and that starburst icon on it's breast, and a pair of flared bell bottom pants in matching white and blue. She waved to them excitedly.

Greg's gaze was arrested by the bell bottoms. That was... a choice, certainly. He yanked his view back up and waved back at her. 

"Hey, uh, thanks for having us."

The woman waved back, and put her hands on her hips with a grin. 

"I'm Ali, Alison Blaire!" She put her hand on her chest "I was one of Professor Xavier's students a while back, but now I'm on staff as a teacher."

Morgan suddenly snapped her fingers and pointed. 

"Oh! I know you! you're  _ Dazzler _ ! " she gushed suddenly "I remember when you were  _ huge _ . Our mom bought, like, a bunch of your CD's!"

Greg blinked as the image snapped into his mind too. "Oh no way. Dazzler? THE dazzler?"

Greg only remembered her as a kind of dorky face on his mom's abandoned stack of weird and retro looking cds. And she HAD to be older than she looked.

Dazzler fluffed out her hair, beaming from ear to ear. 

"That's right. the one and only sparkling superstar, Dazzler!" She winked, and pointed at them with a long, painted nail. "And if you two decide you want to stay .... your teacher!"

"in uh, what?" Morgan asked "music theory?"

"I had no idea you were.... uh... you know," Greg admitted, more than a bit awkwardly.

"A mutant?" Alison said with a warm smile. "No, most people didn't...even if I was more open than most about the powers I have. Iit's a wonder what 'trade secrets' can explain away." 

"Well shit...that explains those pyrotechnics, I guess." Morgan mused. "That's neat. Our mom would have been pumped to meet you, Ms. Blaire."

"She's not dead," Greg added hastily at Morgans dire phrasing. Just not.... here."

Alison put her hand over her heart. 

"Oh good, for a moment there I was worried about you two!" She shook her head. "Well. I'm certain if you decide to join us she'll get the chance to meet me soon-- at a parent teacher conference.' 

"So..I'm taking away from this that there's going to be a lot of extra classes?" Morgan asked

"I mean they did kinda call it a school, Morgan, " Greg chuckled.

"Well...yeah…." Morgan huffed, pouting at him "I  _ got _ that, but..."

Alison gently pat each of them on the shoulder. 

"There's a few extra lessons, sure." Her smile had a playful edge. "But they're sure not the sorts of things they'll teach you at GCHS." 

Dazzler looked over her shoulder, "We were waiting for one more...but..."

"Oh, one more?" Greg cocked his head. Ororo hadn’t mentioned that anyone else was going to be coming. "Someone's a no-show?"

Dazzler pulled out a tablet , glancing at it with a purse of her lips as the gates started to close "Yes...a student that we've been trying to convince to give us a shot for some time now..."

Morgan rubbed the back of her neck. 

"Wow, what a coincidence...maybe we should, you know...wait for them?"

"I mean, I don't wanna be rude but we can't wait around *all* day and waste Miss Dazzler's time," Greg shrugged. As far as he was concerned he couldn’t  _ wait  _ for the tour to start.

"Eeehh...." Morgan glanced over her shoulder. "I  _ guess _ we shouldn't...but..it seems rude."

"We can always send another teacher to give him a tour of his own if he shows up!" Allison chirped. "Come on, kiddos. It's showtime!"


	17. Running Late

Todd scrambled and hopped his way up the path to the institute, glad at least that his altered constitution meant that he wasn't winded, despite having had to run all the way from the bus stop at the bottom of the hill, more than a mile away. 

He was, unfortunately, running late, and muttering to himself as he hurried.

"Aw, man stupid bus yo," he grumbled. "I'm late an' I don't even got a slice of toast, yo."

_ Now Morgan's gonna think I  _ ditched  _ her _ .'

He was running pretty late by now, even with his impressive speed and stamina, and by the time he got close enough to the mansion he could see Greg's gaudy car parked outside the already closed gate. Beyond it, heading towards the mansion, he could see three figures. 

He was already running out of time.

_ You are totally bombing this, Toad, get in there! _

He pulled on his energy reserves and stopped bothering to even try to run normally. After all, there wasn't anyone around to see him anyway. Instead, he allowed his long legs to carry him as far as they could in single jumps toward the Institute.

Using his long legs and leaping strides, he started gaining ground on the group ahead. There was just one problem.

The fence. It stood tall before him and he'd have to waste *who knows* how much time with the call box.

‘ _ Problem? What problem? You got an invite. _ ’

"No time for formalities!" he decided, and squatted down, before leaping high over the fence.

He sailed effortlessly over it, and touched down with a small plume of dust on the other side. Morgan and Greg weren't too far away now, only by the front door--but that thought was quickly interrupted by the sudden blare of an alarm behind him. 

From the bushes beside him came a sudden hiss and a whir.

"Hey, yo, wait I'm--" he stopped mid shout, when some sense picked up the sudden movement, and he threw himself out of the way with a yelp. He jumped just in time to miss the rapid fire blast of white hot light that seared the ground where he'd stood moments before. 

More whirring filled the air as more turrets erupted from behind bushes and inside the fence...and he felt a prickle on the back of his neck as a sharp  _ thwip _ sound came from a nearby tree.

Toad screamed.

000

Greg looked up as they walked toward the manor. 

"Did you hear something?"

Morgan turned with a look of surprise. 

"That sounds like...I don't know, some kind of star wars so..."She froze as she heard a familiar voice scream, just in time to watch as a froggish figure leapt away from a trio of buzzsaws that erupted from the ground and sailed towards him, lasers blasting all around him. "What the-- oh NO!! Todd!!"

Alison spun, her eyes wide. 

"The  _ security system _ ???" She ran forward, humming loudly under her breath as she gathered enough vibration to channel it through her hands. A sudden rainbow blast of light soared from her fingertips, pulsing every color of the rainbow as it cut a line through several of the turrets, blowing them up and stopping them from auto targeting back on the boy. 

"He could have used the intercom! Seriously!" She hit a button on the pad. "Scott, Jean. anyone" She called into it "disable security!"

Greg watched her go, not sure what the hell was going on. 

"Wait-- did you say Todd?" he demanded, but *most* of his attention was on Dazzler.

Meanwhile, they could see a lanky figure dodging around in an acrobatic panic.

Dazzler directed the laser beam with one hand as she booted up--yes, that seemed to be her hit CD, blasting out of a small pair of speakers that had been stylishly hooked to her belt. As she hummed along, the music somehow turned into a sea of dazzling lights around her. They flashed, flared, and slammed into various home defense weapons with concussive force, as she dipped down and grabbed the dodging figure in one arm, and used her other hand to deflect a series of electric barbs fired from behind the fountain. 

There was a yelp from the figure, who it now became obvious absolutely was Todd, as he was scooped up. 

"Whoa!"

Morgan stared for a moment, before she ran forward to try and help.

Greg merely watched in awe as she moved around the yard deftly. Okay, he had to go back in time and tell his younger self.  _ Mom was right. Dazzler was cool. _

Just as suddenly as the chaos began--and just as Morgan got to the scene--it ended. The guns that hadn't been decimated by Dazzler receded into the ground, the blades vanished,the shock probes returned to their slots...

And Dazzler set the boy down with a sigh. 

"Next time , young man, I want you to ring the doorbell. Understood?" 

Morgan stumbled, looking a little dizzy as she came to a stop "Todd, you okay??"

Todd in fact looked kind of ill, and he shook his head to get a hold of himself. 

"Never better," he gulped, eyes wide and bleary. "Who sent the navy after me, yo?"

"It's the defense system." Dazzler explained, running her hand through her hair. "But nothing we can do about it now--welcome to the tour of the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters, Todd Tolansky." 

Morgan leaned over to pat his shoulder, holding it for a moment in a way that used him as a crutch as her head spun. 

"You nearly lost your *head*, leapfrog."

Todd tried, unsuccessfully, to straighten his hair. A few locks at the bottom seem to have been signed. 

"Yeah, you know I kinda noticed, yo," he grimaced. "Hell of a security system, yo."

Greg finally jogged his way over, looking.... not pleased.

"Yeah, I'll say." Morgan murmured, finally letting go and straightening up. "like, kind of a bit much for a school, right?"

Dazzler twirled a lock of her hair with a weak smile. 

"...well, yes and no. We take great pride in the safety of our students."

"Yeah you got em locked up like fort Knox," Todd grumbled. "Uh... anyway like, sorry I'm late you." He eyed Greg nervously, who had yet to say anything.

Morgan grinned at Todd, ignoring her brother for now. 

"I'm really glad you made it, even if it nearly killed you." She offered him a highfive, which he returned with dizziness but enthusiasm. "Let's get a tour of Xavier's Murder Mansion!"

Alison laughed, clapping her hands together "wow! Don't call it that, please!"

Todd snickered. "Ya prefer the Homicide House?"

"Nope." Alison shook her head with a radiant grin, little flecks of light flashing around her "Not that either, please! Just call it the Institute, or the School for Gifted Youngsters, or heck. Xavie's Home for Rad Teens, even. Just not that!"

"Whatever you say, yo," he shrugged, still nervously eying Greg who was ominously silent.

"So... is this everyone then?" Greg asked finally, in a heavy tone.

Morgan glanced at Greg with a nervous smile, before looking back at Todd.

Alison bobbed her head in the affirmative. 

"That's everyone! I hope, I'm  _ reeeally _ * hoping we don't have anyone else triggering the security system." She gave Toad a rather pointed smile.

Toad put his hands up. 

"Hey, yo, if I'd know ya'll were milspec up here I woulda rang the doorbell, lady."

"It's polite to do it anyway," Greg grumbled.

Morgan grinned, baring her fangs openly.

"Well the important thing was nobody was hurt, so...who cares! We've got a tour to get to." 

Alison smiled more warmly, and clasped her hands together.

"Alright everyone, follow me!"

A holographic arrow appeared, and pointed towards the backyard

000

The security system being shut off hadn't been an expected outcome. But it  _ was _ a useful one for the figure in the gasmask.

The figure-- perched atop the fence in the shadows of a grove of trees-- watched through a darkened glass visor for only the briefest of moments as flashes of laser fire and plumes of smoke erupted near the front courtyard of the Xavier Institute. Whatever triggered it, it was a welcome distraction. 

They leapt-- an androgynous sillouette clad in a sleek grey sneaking suit-- and landed within the walls of the Institute, slipping behind a tree to avoid one of the cameras not engaged with the fight up front. They flexed their fingers, and reached into a pouch for a trio of daggers wrapped in fine wire. They threw one, striking the camera and sending sparks down its chassis and through its wire, and around them, with a series of shatters and pops, its brethren on the same power-network went down.

With a soft and satisfied sound, the figure sunk low to the ground. With eyes trained on the mansion they slipped into the shadows of the school's grove.


End file.
